


Bonded

by alittleoddish



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A/B/O, Alpha Draco Malfoy, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, Dubious Morality, Eventual Smut, F/M, Knotting, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Not Beta Read, Omega Hermione Granger, Stubborn Hermione Granger, Will add more as needed - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27752644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittleoddish/pseuds/alittleoddish
Summary: 'She could smell him before she could see him. He smelled like mint and winter weather; like when you first step out of the warmth of your home and the air feels fresher in your nose, crisp and clean. It was intoxicating, maddening… intense.'Hermione Granger is an Omega, although she has absolutely no idea what that means. Draco Malfoy is an Alpha, desperate to get his hands on her, despite her absolute lack of interest. Well, maybe not entirely an absolute lack of interest.I apologize for the terrible summary. Just read and you might like it lol.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 232
Kudos: 855





	1. The Ring

**Author's Note:**

> JKR owns it all and I'm just here to do whatever the fuck I want with her world and characters. :)
> 
> Hello, hello, all you lovely people. This is my first chaptered fic and I almost wanted to wait until it was finished but I got too excited and here we are. It's going to be short, probably about 5 chapters. And maybe, mayyybbbbeeee, an epilogue.
> 
> PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND HEED THE WARNING
> 
> This isn't nearly as dark of a fic as I am used to writing. However, it's pretty heavy dub-con, so if that makes you squeamish, probably best to not read. Also, Draco's actions are a little questionable, so keep that in mind. Lol.
> 
> This chapter is a little short, but I promise the rest are a bit longer. This is my first attempt at A/B/O as well so I hope it does this wonderful trope justice. I've already got most of this fic written, so I'm confident I'll be able to finish soon and update in a timely manner. Thanks for reading and as always, hope you enjoy! :)

Hermione twirled around the gold piece of jewelry decorating her ring finger. Three months and she would be a missus, marrying her long-time friend, and at the young age of twenty-one. Three months. Three very short, blink-and-you’ll-miss-them months. She hadn’t done much planning either, letting Molly take the reins. Although she didn’t really have much of a choice in that. Hermione just never realized how much she didn’t like wedding planning until she had a wedding to plan. That’s it. She just didn’t want to plan it. It definitely didn’t have anything to do with not  _ wanting _ to get married. Because  _ of course _ she wanted to get married. She’d been dreaming of marrying Ron Weasley since she was twelve. Yes, wedding planning was definitely the root of her distress. 

And the ring.  _ The sodding ring. _ With its 14 karat gold band and small, round diamond sat smack dab in the middle. It was fine, she supposed. It wasn’t  _ ugly _ by any means. Just, well, she didn’t really like gold, preferring silver instead, and she would much rather have a radiant or emerald cut over round. But people shouldn’t get married for the cuts of their diamonds, so she pretended she’d loved it for his sake. He probably put a lot of effort into picking it out for her, not to mention how much money he probably spent, so she shouldn’t be so ungrateful.

There was also the issue of getting married so young. She didn’t know if she was ready to be married yet. She thought she would have a few more years of being Ron’s girlfriend before becoming his wife, but Ron wanted to start working on a family. A family. Holy Mother of Merlin, a family! She was practically still a child herself, she didn’t want to go popping out any! 

How could she say no to him though? There was no doubt Hermione wanted to marry Ron  _ eventually _ and she didn’t think he’d understand if she’d said she wasn’t ready. She’d thought she’d be able to pull off a long engagement until Molly roped her into planning this godforsaken wedding before pretty much completely taking it over anyway. Three months.

She twirled her ring around again, finding it to be a bit suffocating on her finger. Too tight. As if it somehow shrunk down since the first time she put it on.

Hermione Weasley, the name didn’t even have a nice ring to it. Which is a ridiculous thought considering she’d been scribbling it all over her parchment since second year. She was just freaking out. That’s completely normal for someone who’s getting married in three months right?

_ Three months. _

Merlin, help her.

* * *

Hermione took a quick scan of her meetings for the day. She’d been in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures since graduating Hogwarts and even though it wasn’t the most glamorous job, she loved it. She loved fighting for the rights of those who couldn’t fight for it themselves. Even though she mainly just approved or declined applications for various things. She just had to work hard and she could work her way up and maybe actually make a difference here. 

She only had three meetings today, which was nice. A bit of an early off day would be good for her sanity before she inevitably lost it again this evening during Christmas dinner at the Weasley’s. The holiday wasn’t until next week, but apparently tonight was the only time every single Weasley could be in attendance, even Charlie who they hadn’t seen much of since the war.

Hermione didn’t feel like going. She wasn’t much in the holiday spirit. Stress, weddings, gold engagement rings… All were too heavy on her mind. Unfortunately for her, there’s no way out of this one. At least she’d have a few hours to herself before being bombarded with questions about the wedding and the women asking to see her ring over and over.

The first two meetings went by rather quickly. The first one, someone was applying for a license to own a kneazle and the second one, they needed their monthly Ministry administered Silencing Charm placed on their pet fwooper. It was the third meeting that had Hermione groaning out loud in malcontent.

_ Malfoy, Draco 3.00 pm _

_ Proposal for the allowance of usage of Unicorn hooves in Potion making. _

Pfft. Leave it to Malfoy to ask for the most implausible thing he could. Quick no. Easy no, actually. She might even  _ enjoy _ telling him no.

At exactly three pm, one of the department’s secretaries gave a small knock on her door and let her know Mr. Malfoy had arrived.

“Great, send him in. Thanks, Adora.”

She could smell him before she could see him. He smelled like mint and winter weather; like when you first step out of the warmth of your home and the air feels fresher in your nose, crisp and clean. It was intoxicating, maddening…  _ intense. _

When he stepped into the room, she almost lost it. His scent filled her small office, causing her breath to hitch. He sat down in the chair in front of her desk and the close proximity had her practically shaking. She instinctively leaned a little closer and took a deep whiff of his scent, trying to take as much of him in as she could before exhaling. It was euphoric and she’d never experienced anything quite like it. When she came to, she immediately noticed his steel grey eyes were locked onto her, watching.

_ Shit. _

She had to get a hold of herself. She can’t just go around  _ sniffing _ people. She’s a professional, after all. And worst of all, this was Malfoy! She was absolutely mortified.

“So,” she said, nervously clearing her throat. “You wanted to discuss using Unicorn hooves for potions, is that right?”

_ Yes, just act like absolutely nothing happened. _ Maybe he didn’t notice, which was highly unlikely with the way his eyes were boring into her. Okay, fine. Maybe he’ll  _ pretend _ he didn’t notice. As long as he didn’t bring it up, she’d probably survive this meeting with minimal embarrassment.

She let her eyes wander over the deliciously-scented male who spent the better part of their school years tormenting her. He looked  _ older. _ Sophisticated, almost. He wore an expensive looking, black suit that fit his tall, lean frame almost  _ too _ perfectly. He was handsome. More handsome than she ever remembered him being. His white-blond hair styled in a sort of quiff, perfectly accentuating the sharp features of his face. He looked strong. Lean but strong. But she supposed that’s what years of playing Quidditch will do to you.

“Yes, that’s right.” He didn’t look nearly as fazed by her as she was by him. In fact, he looked downright bored. Still, his eyes never left her and she felt trapped in his gaze. “They’ve got loads of healing properties, possibly more than their blood. They’d be fantastic in healing potions, and after the war… Well, people could use better healing potions.”

“I’m not going to argue that but to obtain them… It’s barbaric. And not to mention illegal.”

“Yes, well, what’s a few hooveless Unicorns compared to hundreds of lives made better? Think of those suffering from the after effects of Cruciatus. Do they not deserve peace? What about those cursed with blood maledictions? Are they just supposed to wait out their death? I’d always thought of you as a bleeding heart, Granger, but obviously you’re more heartless than me.”

Was he serious? Was  _ he  _ accusing  _ her _ of not caring about people? He may have a mouth-watering scent but he’s still an annoying prick. Good to know.

“Listen, Malfoy. It’s illegal for a  _ reason. _ Unicorns are highly intelligent creatures, not to mention they’re completely pure of heart. Dismembering them is illegal because it’s wrong and I cannot and will not pass it. Even if it’s for a surprisingly unselfish cause.”

He let out a low chuckle that sent shockwaves throughout her body. She had no idea why she was responding to him this way, but it was making her extremely uncomfortable. And he was looking at her like he knew. Like he had all the answers but was keeping them all to himself, basking in her unease.

“I wouldn’t say completely unselfish,” he drawled.  _ Of course not. _ She rolled her eyes. “I run a potion company as you know, and healing potions are where the money is right now. That being said, it’s a sound project. I’m surprised you don’t even want to mull it over, the hero that you are.”

“Chopping off Unicorn hooves doesn’t sound the least bit heroic to me, Malfoy. Are we done? I have places I need to be.”

She hoped his scent would still linger after he left the room and strangely wished she could bottle it up to take with her wherever she went. She never wanted to be away from this absolutely divine aroma. Malfoy, however, she could do without.

“Sure, Granger. We’re done. For now.”

He got out of his seat and she tried not to look at him as he walked away, but she did anyway. She  _ should _ be ashamed, ogling him like some kind of pervert, but she found that in this moment, she couldn’t be arsed to care how inappropriate it was. He turned back to her with a smirk that said he knew exactly what she was doing and her cheeks heated.

“Are you going to see me out?” he asked, smirk still plastered on his stupid face.

“Oh, erm, of course.”

She got up and followed him to the door. She moved to open it and before she had any time at all to react, he had her pressed against the wall, his face buried in the crux of her neck and collarbone. She tried to push him off but he was incredibly strong.

“What the hell, Malfoy! Get off me!”

He didn’t budge. Instead, he pressed himself further into her, keeping her painfully pinned down.

“I could smell you from outside, Omega. So sweet. Like honey,” he purred and she could feel it vibrate on her skin in the most blissful way. Her will to fight him off grew weaker as her thoughts were muddied from the heat he poured into her body as his lips grazed her sensitive skin.

“Mine. Mine. Mine.” He nibbled at her delicate flesh between each word he spoke and she couldn’t suppress the soft whimpers escaping from her as he continued his glorious exploration of this newfound sensitive spot. 

She didn’t want to move. Hell, she didn’t want to so much as  _ breathe _ lest he discontinue his brutal yet blissful activity.

And as if simply having that thought willed it into existence, he stopped and she instantly felt the loss. She looked up at him pleadingly, practically begging him with her eyes to continue. He chuckled at her pouting and pushed a stray curl behind her ear.

“Now, now, pet. I’ll see you soon,” he whispered soothingly in her ear. He opened the door slightly, but before walking out, he turned back to her with a devious smile. “By the way, that ring is fucking hideous.”

And with that, he was gone.


	2. The Mark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKR owns everything, not me. Blah, blah, blah.
> 
> Hello lovelies!  
> Finally done editing this chapter lol. I don't really have a set schedule for updates, but I plan on getting at least one chapter out a week. Might be less, but won't be longer :) Also, I just want to thank everyone reading this. You guys have been so awesome and I super appreciate you all :)
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Back still firmly pressed against the wall, she slid down until her bottom reached the floor and buried her head in her hands.

Her sobs filled the room, her fresh tears soaking the edge of her skirt pulled over her kneecaps.

She felt disgusting. She felt  _ violated. _ She felt ashamed.

How could she have let that happen? How could she do that to Ron?

Oh, Merlin, Ron. Should she tell him? She figured she should, but she didn’t know what she could possibly even say.

‘Sorry I let Malfoy nibble on my neck and I’m even more sorry that I liked it! Please don’t leave me, thanks!’

No.  _ No. _ No. What he did… It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t consent to that. She would have been perfectly fine leaving it at just sniffing him and sending him off. She should’ve just hexed him. She should’ve fought harder against him. Why didn’t she fight? 

Oh yeah… it felt incredible. 

Still, no matter how much her traitorous body may have liked it,  _ she  _ didn’t.  _ She  _ hated it.  _ She _ wanted to throw up.

She knew she had to get a hold of herself. She didn’t want to let Malfoy win whatever sick game he was playing. She was sure this was all some horrible trick to embarrass her. She didn’t want it to actually work.

She got up and wiped the tears from her face before heading back to her flat and trying to wash the shame from her skin. It didn’t come off so easily.

* * *

She stayed in the shower until the water turned blistering cold and her fingers were pruned. It felt like hours. No matter how much scrubbing she did though, she could still smell him on her. Like he was settled deep within her skin and no amount of soap would ever clean him off of her. She hoped no one else could smell him on her too.

She got dressed and tried to tame her hair that seemed to have a mind of its own. There. You couldn’t even tell she was assaulted earlier that afternoon.

Ron was waiting for her on the sofa, his big smile stretching across his face. She wanted him to hold her and tell her everything was okay.

“My fiance is so beautiful. I swear, I’m the luckiest man in Britain!”

She tried her best to return his smile. She could do this. She would tell him what happened with Malfoy later. No need to put a damper on his day. Not when he was looking at her like she was the prettiest girl he’d ever laid eyes on. She felt sick to her stomach.

“Are you ready? Mum’s waiting for us. Everyone’s already there besides us and Charlie, so we should be able to eat soon.”

She laughed at the normalcy of the situation. Like nothing bad had ever happened. Just a normal holiday at the Weasley’s. Just normal Ron, thinking about food as usual. Nothing out of place.

She grabbed his hand and they stepped into the floo.

* * *

When they arrived at the Weasley’s, Hermione felt calm for the first time since the  _ incident. _ Something about the smell of roast in the air, the hustle and bustle of Molly in the kitchen, George and Bill talking about Quidditch while Fleur played with her young daughter on the floor, all of it made her feel like she was home. Safe. No one could hurt her here.

She heard Ginny squeal when she saw her and the pretty redhead engulfed her in a hug. She hadn’t seen Ginny in ages since she was busy travelling with the Holyhead Harpies as their Chaser. Harry, she saw even less of since he became an Auror, not even bothering to go back to Hogwarts to finish out their seventh year. He was beaming up at her from the sofa and it filled her with the comfort he had no idea she desperately needed.

“Come on, show us the ring then!” Ginny exclaimed, grabbing her hand and making a show of how pretty her ring was. She knew it was a lie, but she’d let her fawn, even if it’s only to not be rude. Whether it was for Hermione’s benefit or Ron’s ego though, she wasn’t entirely sure.

Ginny grabbed her hand and led her to the kitchen, leaving the boys behind to talk about whatever it is that boys talked about.

She began helping them set the table for dinner, and was thankful for the presence of family to help her put away her thoughts. She would have plenty of time for thinking later when reality was sure to settle back in. For now, she could just try to relax and enjoy this.

“I’ve been thinking about the flowers for the reception,” Molly started as she wiped her hands on her apron. “Do you prefer hydrangeas or peonies, dear?”

“Oh, erm, peonies, I suppose.”

“Great! That’s exactly what I was thinking. Now, I know you said you wanted it to be small, but there are so many people who’d be offended if they couldn’t attend…”

Molly’s voice cut off as Hermione found she couldn’t focus on anything but the overwhelming scent wafting through the room. It was spicy, and warm, and comforting and she had to take a step back to stop herself from drooling all over the dinner table. She breathed in deeply, inhaling it all like her very soul depended on taking it all in.

“Oh, Charlie, dear! You’re finally here! Give your mother a kiss, won’t you?”

He was taller than she remembered. He towered over Molly as he bent down to give a small peck on her cheek. His long, red hair fell to his shoulders and she thought he kind of looked like his older brother, Bill. Only Bill didn’t make Hermione’s breath stop. She wanted to touch him. Just reach out and…

He stopped her with his gaze. The feeling of his eyes on her was absolutely sensational. She wanted him to look at her, at her mouth, at her body. She had the sudden urge to lift her neck and expose the spot Malfoy had explored thoroughly earlier that afternoon, with absolutely no idea what was taking over her. Like her instincts were taking control of her every movement, her every thought, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

He moved away from his mother and began taking small steps toward her, as if giving her the opportunity to run away. Why would she ever want to do that? She knew people were watching them, but it didn’t matter.

He smelled like cinnamon and apples and it reminded her of freshly baked pies in autumn. She wanted to get lost in it. He was so close to her now, his scent overtaking all of her senses. He didn’t say a word as he traced a finger along her collarbone, eliciting a breathy whimper; a plea to make her his.

“I can smell him on you. Tell me who he is and I’ll kill him.” His words came out in a husky whisper, sending chills up and down her spine.

“What the hell, Charlie! Get off my fiance!” she heard Ron shout. Ron.  _ Ron. _ Shit.

Before she could get her thoughts back together, she heard a deep, rumbling growl aimed directly at Ron. Charlie lunged at him and pinned him to the floor, his hand squeezing Ron’s throat as his younger brother tried desperately to fight him off.

_ "Mine,” _ Charlie snarled.

It took every other male Weasley plus Harry to pull Charlie off of him. Ron began rubbing his neck and gasping for breath as he scooted away in fear.

Arthur cast an Incarcerous spell, binding Charlie in thick ropes as Harry and the Weasley men hauled him out of the room until she was left with only the Weasley women and Ron.

Hermione ran over to Ron, prepared to make sure he was okay, but he quickly moved away from her, panic stricken.

“Don’t touch me!” he shouted. She supposed he had every right to be angry with her, so she backed away trying to conceal the pain flickering in her eyes at his rejection.

“He’ll smell you on me if you touch me.”

She was thoroughly confused now. He’ll smell her? Like in the way she smelled him and Malfoy? That can’t be, no one’s ever mentioned her smelling any sort of way before. She’d just assumed her sense of smell heightened to the point it made her brain feel all weird and fuzzy for some very strange, unknown reason.

“What- Is there something wrong with me?”

She looked around at the three pairs of panicked eyes, begging for someone to tell her what the hell was happening.

“Why don’t you go sit down and I’ll make you some tea, dear.”

Hermione walked with Ginny to the sitting room and sat down on the sofa where Fleur gave her a scathing look before picking up a scared, little Victoire and leaving the room.

“What’s wrong with me, Gin?”

Ron was now pacing furiously around the room, his skin the brightest red she had ever seen.

“Well, erm, it seems that you.. Well, you’re…”

“You’re a fucking Omega!” Ron shouted, his hands vehemently raking through his hair. Hermione had never seen him so upset.

“What’s an Omega?” she asked quietly. She vaguely remembered Malfoy calling her this word during the  _ incident, _ but was too distracted by the arse's magnificent scent to care at the time.

“It’s… hard to explain…” Ginny warily started. “Charlie’s what’s called an Alpha and you’re what’s called an Omega. Those like me and Ron, we’re Betas. Alphas and Omegas have ‘scents’ that attract each other, scents that only you lot can smell. Charlie was… Well, he was attracted to your scent-”

“That’s enough, Ginny. Spare the details,” Ron groaned, still furiously pacing through the sitting room.

“Excuse me, Ron, but I think she deserves to  _ know  _ the details,” she bit back. Hermione had never been more grateful for a feisty Ginny. “As I was saying, Charlie was attracted to your scent, and it  _ sounded _ like he smelled another Alpha on you. Like you’d already been marked.”

Marked?  _ Marked? _

_ You’ve got to be kidding me.  _ Well, looks like she’d have to find Malfoy and hex his bits and pieces off.

“Marked? What does  _ that _ mean?”

“Alphas will ‘mark’ an Omega with their scent in order to warn off other Alphas, or in some situations, challenge them. Charlie was probably getting ready to do the latter. He snapped on Ron because well, Alphas can get very aggressive around unbonded Omegas.”

“Unbonded Omegas?”

“Most of the information I have is the stuff mum researched about Alphas when we found out Charlie was one, so I don’t really know a whole lot about the Omega side or how the whole bonding thing works. But it’s a more  _ permanent _ mark. Once you’re bonded, you become mates for life, pretty much. Other Alphas will know to stay away from an Omega that’s already bonded.”

Hermione didn’t know what to make of this information. She looked over at Ron, who had since sat down, but he avoided her gaze, instead looking straight at the wall; face now white as a ghost.

“It all sounds so very...  _ bestial." _

It was then that Molly came into the room, pale-faced and tea obviously forgotten.

“Ron, why don’t you and Hermione talk outside, dear?” She asked with as much calm as she could muster while looking apologetically at Hermione.

Hermione apprehensively followed Ron out the door, more confused than ever about the whole situation. Ron conjured each of them a chair before he sat down, head in his hands. She took the other seat and they both sat there quietly, not uttering a word. 

In truth, she didn’t know  _ what _ to say. She understood why he was upset, seeing her flaunting herself for his brother, and it killed her to know she’s the cause of his pain. He had to know it wasn’t her, right? In her right mind, she would never! 

“I’m-I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Hermione. You didn’t know.” His words were reassuring, but the pain behind them was like a punch to the gut.

“I know. Can’t I still be sorry though?”

She wanted to hug him. She wanted to stroke his hair, and give reassuring kisses, and tell him everything was going to be alright.

“No. It’s all biological. Nothing you can do about that.”

“I guess not.”

The air was cold as ice, singing its blustering song as it whipped through the trees, relishing in its own strength, but it was the silence that was truly deafening.

“You can keep the ring. If you want. I don’t… I don’t want it.”

He’s breaking up with her? She was inappropriate with Charlie, sure, but even he said it was just biological. Was he blaming her?

“You’re breaking up with me?”

“Well, I have to, don’t I? I’m a Beta, Hermione. You’re an Omega. You’ll need… you'll need to be with an Alpha.”

_ This is just getting ridiculous, _ she thought, getting more and more furious by the second.

“So what if I’m an Omega? I love you and I’m not just going to let you break up with me over something I can’t even control!”

“It’s not like that, Hermione. I won’t be able to take care of you like you’ll need. During your heat, you’ll be… you'll have  _ needs  _ that… that only an Alpha can help you with.”

This was all too much. This day… This absolutely rotten day. Could it get any worse?

“I don’t even know what a  _ ‘heat’ _ is! Surely we can work something out, Ron. There’s got to be a way-”

“We can’t even have children together, Omegas can only breed with Alphas. We'll both want a family someday. Besides, you’ve already got Alphas marking you, even my own brother wanted... I can’t… I’m sorry, Hermione.”

Tears were uncontrollably sliding down her cheeks, begging him to change his mind.

“But I-I don’t want an Alpha, Ron! Please!”

“Ron, mum wants you,” Ginny called from the doorway before stepping outside. 

Ron needed no further encouragement to leave the conversation. Turning away from her, from  _ them, _ he walked back inside without a second glance.

Without warning, her friend embraced her in a comforting hug and Hermione began to fall apart, sobbing into her shoulder. 

She thought she knew what a broken heart felt like, when Ron was with Lavender in sixth year. That was nothing,  _ nothing, _ compared to this. She felt demolished. Like a wrecking ball came out of nowhere and destroyed her whole entire world, leaving her to sort through the wreckage to find all the little pieces of her heart and figure out a way to put them back together.

“Come on, Hermione. I’ll apparate you home. I’d hate for you to get splinched.”

* * *

They arrived in front of her flat a few minutes later and just the sight of her home had her ready to go inside and not leave her bed ever again.

“Mum says once you start your heat, she says you’ll know when it’s started, to lock yourself inside and don’t let  _ anyone _ come in. She's getting in touch with your boss and letting him know you're ill. She says you’ll need lots of food and water and if you need anything, to floo her.”

“Thanks, Gin.” She smiled weakly at her friend to try to reassure her she’d be alright. But she didn’t know if she  _ would _ be alright. This heat thing sounds exhausting and frightening. She hoped it wouldn’t last too long. Maybe she could get someone to find some books on the subject for her. She would need to do  _ lots _ of research.

“Of course. Also, erm, it’s none of my business of course, but if someone  _ did _ already mark you… Just be careful, yeah?”

“I’m fine, Ginny, I promise. Thank you for everything.”

“Of course. Be safe, please. And let us know if you need anything, okay?”

“Okay.”

She gave Ginny one last hug before heading inside.

* * *

Once inside her flat, she immediately sat down to process what the hell this day was. The  _ incident _ with Malfoy, the  _ other _ incident with Charlie, Ron breaking up with her. All of it came crashing down around her, an ocean of tears now pouring out from her eyes. The reality is, she’s alone. Really and truly alone, like she never had been before.

She looked down at her ring. She hated that ring. She yanked it off her finger and threw it across the room.

And that’s when it hit her.

Mint.

Her flat was engulfed in the smell and Hermione couldn’t help but breathe it in hungrily. It was a beautiful scent; like fresh, cold air. 

She wiped the fresh tears from her eyes, not wanting to allow him the pleasure of seeing her pain.

“Glad to see you took that ugly ring off.” 

How did he even get in her flat? How did he even know where she lived?

“Did you miss me, darling?”


	3. The Heat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JKR owns it all, not meeee.
> 
> Hello again, lovelies!
> 
> First of all, thank you sooooooooo much for all the support and kind words! You guys are super duper awesome and appreciated :)  
> I was thankfully able to get this chapter out rather quickly, although the next one may take a little longer. I have lots of things to change in it, therefore lots of things to re-write. Shouldn't take longer than a week though! :)
> 
> Hope you guys enjoy!!!

“How did you find me?” She grabbed her wand from her coat pocket and aimed it at Malfoy as threateningly as she could.

“No need to get dramatic. I simply asked the secretary,” he said with his chin in the air, looking mighty proud of himself.

“I don’t believe you. That’s personal information! She wouldn’t risk her job for-”

“Yes, well, I may have  _ influenced _ her a bit.”

_ So he paid her. _ _ Slimy git. _

“She doesn’t strike me as the type to take a bribe.” To be honest, she didn’t really know if Adora was or wasn’t the type. Honestly at this point it didn’t matter, as long as she could keep him talking long enough to allow her to formulate a plan to get the hell away from him.

“Unfortunately for me, she isn’t. Had to Imperius her, didn’t I? But don’t worry, I only got your address and left. You should probably tell your boss to hire better security though. It was almost  _ too _ easy to use an Unforgivable on a Ministry employee without anyone noticing.”

“Are you  _ insane?" _ she asked, the pitch in her voice rising with each word. He looked amusedly at her. “No, seriously. Are you actually mental?”

She tried so hard to not get lost in his scent, which was becoming increasingly difficult. She wanted him to touch her, kiss her, maybe nibble that sensitive spot again… 

No.  _ No. _ She didn’t want him to do any of those things! __

_ What is happening? _

“Don’t act like you don’t feel it too. I can tell, Granger. It’s written all over your pretty, little face. You’re  _ mine." _

He strode across the room toward her and she found herself meeting him halfway. She was scared how little control she had over herself when these ‘Alphas’ were around. Like the second she got a whiff of their scent, her instincts took over and she had zero choices in her actions. She was thankful she was still pointing her wand at him, at least. She needed a way to defend herself if her stupid body was going to act on its own accord.

“No, actually, I’m  _ mine. _ I belong to me, no one else.”

“I do admire your spirit,” he chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt you, Granger. Lower your wand.” 

He was calm in a way that surprised her. His voice was persuasive, soothing, and she found herself  _ wanting _ to do what he said, despite her own best interest. She watched in confusion as her arm slowly lowered and slipped her wand back into her pocket. 

He cleared the small distance between them and Hermione found she was rooted to the spot. 

That scent. That wonderful, masculine, erotic scent permeated the air and she found herself drowning in the heavenly essence. She wanted to touch him. No,  _ needed _ to touch him. 

As if he read her mind, he pulled her into him and began planting burning kisses along her neck. She draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning into his touch. His mouth found that sweet spot and she closed her eyes and gave in to the sensation of his teeth softly pulling at her skin.

“I’m going to take care of you.”

Maybe it was the calm tone of his voice that made her trust him. Maybe it was the fuzziness in her brain caused by his continued exploration of the exposed skin of her neck and collarbone. She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She’d never been this responsive before, but every gentle touch of his lips, every breath on her neck, had her feeling desperate for more.

“Come with me.”

It wasn’t a question, but another gentle demand and at that moment, she’d follow him to the ends of the earth without a thought.

“Will you answer my questions?”

He gave her a satisfied grin, looking very much like the cat that got the cream.

“Of course, darling.”

Before she could have any second thoughts, he apparated them away.

* * *

She took in her surroundings, expecting to be at Malfoy Manor, but quickly realized she’d never been here before. The walls were painted a dark shade of emerald and large mahogany bookcases lined the walls. The cream-colored furniture looked far too expensive, but it all looked very surprisingly warm and cozy.

“W-Where are we?”

“We’re in my flat, Granger. Would you like a drink?”

He led her to the sofa and gestured for her to sit before walking to a small bar in the corner of the room and pouring himself a glass of what looked like Firewhisky.

“Actually… I think I’d like to go home.”

He let out a quiet chuckle before pressing his drink to his lips. Hermione was finding it hard to concentrate. Her earlier euphoria was wearing off a little, but her mind was still a little foggy and his scent was incredibly strong here.

“Are you sure about that?” he smirked. “Tell you what, why don’t I make you something to eat? I’ve got some leftovers I can heat up. I’m sure you’re starving.”

She  _ was _ hungry. Extremely hungry. She hadn’t eaten anything all day but it felt more like weeks. She nodded her head and he left the room.

What was happening? She felt dizzy, like the room was spinning, and she couldn’t even  _ think _ properly. She didn’t want to be here anymore. It felt… unsafe. Apparating would be dangerous with an unclear mind, but she didn’t know how else to leave. There wasn’t a fireplace anywhere in sight, so she couldn’t floo. Maybe she could just walk out the door and run until she found her way home. It wasn’t the best plan in the world, but it was a plan at least.

He came back in and handed her a bowl of stew before sitting down beside her. He used his thumb to rub circles on the back of her neck while she ate and the fuzz in her brain intensified at his touch. She finished her stew within minutes, but that only seemed to escalate her hunger. She was ravenous. Malfoy took her bowl and refilled it. She quickly scarfed that down as well.

After about five bowls of stew combined with Malfoy’s continuous rubbing of her neck, she started to feel a bit better.

She was exhausted though, like the day was just now catching up with her. She found her eyes starting to close on their own accord as she leaned back into the comfortable sofa, ready to end her day right there.

He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap. She really should have pulled away but it was like a part of her didn’t want to anymore. Like this was exactly where she belonged. She dug her nose in his chest and took a deep breath. She’ll never get used to the incredible smell of him. He started stroking her hair as she closed her eyes and let his entrancing scent lull her to sleep.

* * *

She woke up drenched in sweat, her clothes clinging to her body. She needed them off immediately. It felt like her entire body was on fire; a blazing heat from within, like her insides were set aflame. She began pawing profusely at the offending garments, but couldn’t seem to get them off in her half-asleep state.

“What’s the matter?” Malfoy grumbled, startling her. She didn’t even know he was in bed with her. She had half a mind to keep her clothes  _ on, _ but she was becoming so uncomfortable, she dropped that idea quickly. No time for modesty when you feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

“Off. My clothes. I need them off.”

She sat up in the bed to make the whole process easier and starting with her shirt, he began to undress her. Already she started to feel better with one sweat-soaked piece of clothing gone, allowing the chill of the room to cool down the enraging fire, red-hot and flaring beneath her skin.

“Better?”

She nodded.

“More.”

He peppered kisses across her face as he unbuttoned her jeans. She lifted her bum and she felt the brush of his fingertips on her skin as he slid them down. She let out a quiet whimper at the contact and she could feel the familiar tingle of arousal starting in her lower abdomen and working it’s way down between her thighs.

“How’s that?”

“More,” she begged.

He moved to sit behind her, holding her between his legs and her body convulsed at his touch as he traced his finger along her spine. She could feel his lips on her neck and shoulders, soft and light, as he unclasped her bra and slid it down her arms. She didn’t know if it was the cool air against her naked skin, or the feeling of his lips and fingers exploring every inch of her that caused her body to shudder and her nipples to harden. 

“More.”

She could feel him smile against her as his hands found her breasts and she arched her back in reciprocation, pushing herself into his palms. His hands, his breath, the feel of his teeth nipping at her flesh, she needed more and she didn’t know if it would ever be enough.

He traced the curves along her abdomen, evoking little whimpered pleas, until he landed at the hem of her knickers. She wondered why he’d stopped. She didn’t want him to stop. She turned her head to look at him and met his eyes. Cold, hungry, questioning. She placed her hand over his, begging him to continue.

“More.”

He needed no further coaxing as he dipped his hand below the cotton and met with the aching heat at her core. She gripped his thighs, holding on for dear life as he explored her, fingers gently stroking her nub before one-by-one diving into her slick entrance.

Her breathing was heavy, ragged, and she was desperate to be completely full of him. His scent was everywhere, all over her, wrapping her up in a warm blanket of security. She’d never felt safer than right here in his arms and she wanted to live in this moment for eternity.

He quickened his pace, lightly biting at bits of flesh along her neck and shoulders and she had a feeling she would come out of this with marks left from his mouth’s peregrinations of her body. The thought of it combined with the pleasant thrusts of his fingers had her muscles tightening and ready to explode like a volcano about to erupt.

He could tell she was close. He grabbed her waist and picked up speed as she bucked against his hand. She thought she knew the energetic feel of magic, how it buzzed beneath her skin, coursing through her veins. She thought she knew. But this...  _ this _ was magic and it was unlike any experience she’d ever had or could have imagined as wave after wave of glorious pleasure overtook her entire being, leaving her completely exhausted and breathless.

She could feel his erection pressing against her back and she wanted nothing more than to feel him come apart inside of her. She’d never been like this before. So passionate, so full of lust. There was a burning need inside of her, completely new, that had her aching to indulge it.

She slipped out of his arms and off the bed before sliding off her underwear and climbing back into her safe haven between his legs. She looked at him,  _ really _ looked at him. A sheen of sweat made his entire body glisten in the dim light of the moon. He had been shirtless so she got a delicious few of his lean, muscular torso that she never would have imagined lived under his expensive suits. His white-blond hair glowed in the dark and was sticking to his forehead, framing the sharp, handsome features of his face. He was looking at her, trying to gauge her reaction to what had just transpired, she was sure. 

She slowly began pulling down his boxers until he was completely free and she couldn’t help but stare in wonder at his erection. It was… perfect. She liked how it looked, which she didn’t think she could say about any other penis she’d ever seen. Not that she ever really  _ looked _ at one, or had a very large frame of reference. She scooted herself closer and, using his shoulders to help her balance, guided his cock inside of her, stretching her out in the most heavenly way.

He grabbed her waist as she began to ride him, trying to control her rhythm. She was having none of it. This was carnal. Animal. Absolutely _ soul-shattering. _ She grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling his head back, and trapped him in a bruising kiss. It was passionate and hungry and she moaned in mind-numbing pleasure as he caught her lower lip in his teeth.

She felt so sublimely full, like their bodies were made to intertwine, to fit one another in the most perfect way. His scent, his body, the taste of his kiss, everything about him was magnetic and she didn’t think she’d ever be able to pull herself away. He had awoken something very deep inside of her; some animalistic, primal need that would be forever impossible to ignore.

He was hers. All hers. She didn’t want anyone else in the world to touch him, to feel him like this. She’d sooner die than let anyone or anything rip this intoxicating man away from her. 

She tightened around his cock and bit down on his chest, drawing blood, as another wave of uninhibited pleasure vibrated through her body. She licked the blood from the wound she’d created, healing it instantly.

He let out a rumbling growl as he began fucking her deeper. He pulled her closer to his chest and buried his face in her neck, finding that sweet spot that drove her insane. He bit down hard and she cried out in a mix of pain and undeniable pleasure, before using his tongue to gently stroke her wound, closing it back up. 

She swore she could feel him growing inside of her, swelling up and filling her more than she ever thought she could take. He tilted his head back and let his orgasm take him, roaring like a wild animal in his ardent climax. She watched his face as he came. Strong, sweaty, eyes rolled to the back of his head as he filled her with his release. Forehead to forehead, both panting heavily, she planted a soft kiss on his cheekbone before moving to get off of him.

“You’re not going to want to do that, darling,” he said, pulling her down to his chest.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m knotted. It'll hurt both of us, believe me.”

She was too exhausted to ask any further questions, instead cuddling up in his warmth and closing her eyes.

* * *

She traced the scars on his chest with delicate touches of her fingers, wanting to know every intimate detail. She watched the rise and fall of his chest, and listened to the steady, rhythmic beats of his heart. With the warm glow of the morning light often comes regret and she couldn’t say this was any different. 

She hated him. Absolutely hated him. He took advantage of her when she was at her most vulnerable and in doing so, took every single one of her choices away. 

Yet something inside of her, something that refused to be ignored, thought he was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.

Maybe she hated herself a little bit too.

* * *

She watched him make breakfast, which was a little surreal if she was being honest. He cooked  _ the muggle way. _ If anyone would have told her Draco Malfoy did  _ anything _ the muggle way, she would have laughed in their face and told them they were insane! Here he was though, cooking her a rather delicious looking omelette and hash browns, bouncing around the kitchen, adding this and that.

Hermione had never been much of a cook. Even with magic, she always ended up burning  _ something, _ so she tended to just stay away and let someone with more experience handle it.

This was surprising for her though. Watching Malfoy cook. Like some weird alternate universe where he wasn’t the same foul, spoiled, arrogant prick who relentlessly bullied her growing up. She didn’t like it. She didn’t like softening around him, or letting her guard down. She didn’t want to think nice things about him, because he didn’t do anything to  _ earn _ her nice thoughts. In fact, he pretty much did everything he could to earn her  _ worst _ thoughts. A good shag and a breakfast doesn’t erase years of torment, not to mention everything he’s done in the last twenty-four hours.

She liked how he looked in the morning, she very reluctantly realized. In nothing but his probably-too-expensive pajama bottoms, his hair a right mess. Not at all put together like she usually saw him. She liked the paleness of his skin, stretching over his lean, muscular frame. She wanted to map out the dips and curves of his back and shoulder blades with her fingers, run them through his hair, kiss his throat and-

“As flattered as I am that you can’t take your eyes off me for one second, if you keep staring at me like that, we’ll never get to eat breakfast.” He winked at her. Bastard.

“I’m not staring!” she said with indignance at his  _ extremely _ untrue accusation. “I just didn’t peg you as the type to enjoy muggle cooking, that’s all.”

“It reminds me of potion making. Using the correct ingredients to get the right flavors, the right temperature, cooking for the exact right amount of time. It’s relaxing.”

“I just figured you’d have house elves do all your work for you.”

“I don’t have house elves. Not here. They’re taking care of the Manor.”

“And why aren’t  _ you _ at the Manor?”

“It’s not somewhere I enjoy being anymore. Too many bad memories. Now, are you ready for breakfast?”

He sat a plate of food in front of her, and grabbed a seat for himself at the small table. She wasted no time digging in. She was starving. She would never admit how delicious it actually was - and it  _ was _ delicious.

He just watched her eat, which made her a little uncomfortable, though it didn’t stop her. She noticed he didn’t have a plate of food for himself which made her  _ even more _ uncomfortable. Like he went out of his way to do something nice for  _ her, _ like cook  _ her _ breakfast. She didn’t want him to do nice things for her. It made things confusing and she hated being confused.

Fine, he could sit and stare at her eating like a creep, but she was at least going to get some use out of this awkward situation.

“You said you’d answer my questions.”

“I did.”

“Why did you mark me?”

He looked at her with a surprised curiosity, like she was an idiot for asking such a question.

“Because I wanted you. What happened with the ugly redhead?”

“Not a good enough answer. And you don’t get to ask the questions!” she huffed. 

She  _ really _ didn’t feel like answering any questions about that particular subject, least of all to the man who started this whole mess.

“If I’m going to answer your questions, I certainly get to ask my own. And fine, I marked you because you have the most delectable scent and I quite literally couldn’t help myself. Your turn.”

Fine. He had a point. She didn’t like it, but he had one.  _ Bastard. _

Guess she’s answering his stupid questions then.

“I don’t… I don’t exactly know what happened. I mean, I  _ know, _ but this whole thing is still… well, it’s new. After you attacked me-”

“I didn’t  _ attack _ you, Granger.”

_ Hmph. _

“After you  _ attacked _ me, I went to a Christmas dinner at the Weasley’s and… and Charlie, Ron’s brother, he… he noticed my scent too.”

“That doesn’t explain what happened.”

“Doesn’t it? My turn. What did you  _ really _ want those Unicorn hooves for?”

She knew he was hiding something. Not that it mattered anyway, because she would never approve his stupid and completely savage request.

“I told you already.”

“Yes, and I don’t believe you.”

“Fine. To take away the symptoms of my ruts, but it has a plethora of uses.”

“What’s a-”

“My turn. What happened with...  _ Charlie?" _

She could hear the jealousy in his voice. She hated the tinge of excitement she got from it. Like she  _ wanted _ him to be irrationally possessive of her.  _ Please. _

“He smelled me. And then he smelled  _ you _ on me. Then Ron interrupted and he well,  _ choked _ him. Ginny then explained what I am, what you are. And then… then Ron broke up with me. What’s a rut?”

“It’s like a heat but for Alphas. Hypersexual, protective, can become easily violent if we feel we or our mate are threatened. But when there’s no Omega around… it’s painful. Excruciatingly painful. Like a non-stop Cruciatus once a month, for a week straight. I’ve tried to tame it with regular witches but it - it doesn’t work. Nothing works. Until now, anyway. Now, my turn. You’ve never… had a heat before?”

“No. I didn’t know anything was even  _ wrong _ with me until yesterday. Should I have known?”

“Most Alphas and Omegas present around sixteen. I didn’t present until I was eighteen. A bit of a late bloomer, as are you from the looks of it. Are you still hungry?”

She could tell he was rushing to change the subject. Maybe he didn’t  _ know _ that this had never happened to her before. Maybe he thought she was just as clued in as he was. Did that excuse his behavior? Did that excuse the fact that he didn’t even ask permission before assaulting her with his yummy scent and his nips and licks at her skin? Did it excuse him using an Unforgivable to obtain her address and then effectively kidnap her and hold her hostage for mindblowing sex?

No, she thought. No it didn’t.

_ "That’s _ your question?”

“Yes.”

“No. Aren’t you going to eat anything?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

He then walked over to her chair and held out his hand for her to take. She didn’t necessarily  _ want _ to, but she found herself doing it anyway, much to her bemusement. He coaxed her out of her seat before grabbing her waist and hoisting her up on the table. He kissed the exposed skin of her shoulder peeking out of his shirt that she’d been wearing all morning. She couldn’t deny the feeling his lips gave her. Magic. Pure magic.

“Lay down, darling.”

She did as instructed without a second thought - or a first one, if she was being honest. He removed her underwear quickly, hastily, like he couldn’t bloody wait any longer and she hated how excited that thought made her. He grabbed his chair and sat down in front of her before parting her legs, giving himself a full view of her already glistening center.

He trailed light kisses down her thighs, coupled with soft flicks of his tongue. She knew what he was about to do and she was suddenly nervous. She’d never let Ron do this to her and he never really minded. But here she was, opening herself up to  _ Malfoy _ like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was scary how natural it actually was - terrifying, really.

When his tongue reached her now dripping heat, she instinctively threw her hand over her mouth to stifle the obnoxiously loud moan that escaped her throat. Her other hand fisted his hair, pulling him closer to her, as he lapped at her like a man stranded in a desert.

Every swish and flick of his tongue was precise, as if they were all planned perfectly for her pleasure. She began grinding against his face, bucking her hips to meet the exquisite thrusts of his tongue.

She could get used to this. She could get very, very, dangerously used to this.

* * *

She was beginning to get comfortable.  _ Too _ comfortable. Uncomfortably comfortable. It was hard not to when she had to lay so close to him for at  _ least _ an hour after every time they made love.

_ Made love? _

Had sex. After they had sex. That’s all this was really. Just devastatingly incredible sex. 

And that’s what they did the entirety of the day, and well, now night. Unhinged, unabashed,  _ unbelievingly, _ devastatingly, incredible sex.

She had to say something, anything, to get her mind off of the intimacy of the silent cuddling.

“Why do you knot?”

“Why? Do you not like it?”

“I didn’t- That’s not what I asked!”

She could feel the heat blooming in her cheeks and hated that he could do that to her, especially while he was still  _ inside _ her. She blushed harder.

“I only knot during a rut. It’s for… breeding purposes. Locks it all in.”

“That’s… disgusting.”

“It’s biology.”

_ Thank the Gods for birth control potions... _

“It’s still disgusting.”

“You know you like it.”

She could feel his grin on the back of her neck as he nestled himself deeper into her lion’s mane of curls.

“Get some sleep, darling.”

And again, without a thought, she listened.


	4. The Bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Finally done with this chapter! Chapter 5 will be up within a week to a week and a half. Unlike all the other chapters, I haven't written anything for it yet, so it might take a little bit longer. I'll update asap though :)
> 
> Also, thanks again to everyone who has left a kudos, comment, bookmark, or just reading. You guys are amazing, truly! I appreciate you all so much!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

It was a very strange thing, being an Omega. Like having two conflicting minds in one body; two completely different people living in her head that are in constant disagreement. 

Her Omega side was like living on adrenaline. Everything was in the moment, instinctual, acting on every single impulse. She was horny _all the time_ . Ridiculously horny. Like an itch in an impossible place that you can’t for the life of you reach to scratch. She just couldn’t stop _shagging_ him. Her Omega hungered for him. Sinfully addicted to the smell of him, the feel of him filling her to the _literal_ brim, the way his mouth tantalized her skin with gentle brushes of his lips and soft strokes of his tongue.

Then there was her other side. Her _real_ side, as she liked to call it. The side that missed Ron, that was still mourning the death of their relationship. The side that, when she inevitably fell back down to earth and reality set back in, felt dirty, cheap, and ashamed. The side that was now thoroughly disgusted with herself for letting Malfoy exploit her so effortlessly.

She’d thought about leaving. She’d thought about it so many times. She thought about making a break for it while he was busy showering or sleeping, or cursing him to oblivion before apparating back to the Weasley’s. Her Omega side would talk her out of it every single time, of course. _This is only temporary,_ she’d tell herself. _Just until this heat thing is over._ She didn’t want to be in pain. And on the rare occasions when she would try to rebel against her body’s urges, that’s what it was. Searing pain, burning up her insides. 

She _could_ have dealt with it. She fought in a war for crying out loud. There were potions for pain, lots of them. But she didn’t _want_ to. She didn’t want to. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She reasoned with herself that if Malfoy was going to use her to help his rut anyway, it was only fair she used him too. 

Such a dangerous line to cross, she knew. And here she was tiptoeing around that line, threateningly close to hopping right over it and following the devil straight to hell.

The scariest, deadliest, stupidest part was that it really wasn’t all that difficult to give in. Natural. Easy.

_Just until the heat is done._

She wondered what Ron’s reaction would be. He’d be angry, obviously. A small, vengeful part of her wanted him to be angry; for him to see what he so carelessly threw away without even _trying_ to fight for it. The larger, broken-hearted part of her just missed him. She missed his smile and his hearty laugh, she missed their inside jokes, she missed watching him sleep peacefully next to her while she read in bed. She missed the normalcy. He had been the only constant thing in her life since Hogwarts, something reliable and stable after the uncertainty of war. She just _missed_ him.

And obviously there was the guilt. They had only just ended things _two days ago_ and here she was already at another man’s flat. And not just any man, ohhhh no, she was at _Draco sodding Malfoy’s flat._ The enemy. Shagging him senseless at any given opportunity.

She hadn’t really come to terms with everything that’s happened the last couple of days. She didn’t even want to get married in the first place, yet she still found herself missing that awful ring sometimes. Other times she’d forget completely. Ron, her engagement, their would-be life together - all of it leaves her mind the second his scent envelopes her and that makes her feel even _more_ guilty.

She hated the effect he had on her. She hated that she couldn’t control herself around him. She hated how comfortable she felt in his arms, how sleeping next to him was always the best sleep she’d had in years, how she’d been wearing nothing but one of his white, button-down shirts every bloody day since she got here because she loved being covered in his scent. She _hated_ it. 

She didn’t _choose_ him and the choice was important to her. So he was good at sex, so what? She’d need more than that, more than she was certain _he_ could ever give her. She really couldn’t wait for this ridiculous heat to be over, when she could get far, far away and forget about this whole entire thing.

* * *

“Why me?”

He looked curiously up at her from the Daily Prophet as if he had no idea what she could be talking about. Of course he knew.

“Why me? I thought you hated muggle-borns.”

His look turned from curious to guarded in a matter of seconds.

“I’m not sixteen anymore, Granger. Things change.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” His voice was a warning. She didn’t listen.

She could tell he was uncomfortable with the conversation, but that didn’t stop her from pushing. She’d always been pushy, never knowing when it’s best to stop.

“You never talk about them. I always thought you were… I thought you were close. Wouldn’t they disapprove?”

“My father died in Azkaban and my mother is in Italy and I promise you, _this_ is the least of her worries.” 

He turned back to the Prophet, his face paler than usual and devoid of any decipherable emotion.

“That… That must be hard.”

“It’s fine.”

“Why is your mother in Italy?”

He looked back up at her, obviously irritated, bordering on angry.

“Is it any of your business?”

She was going too far and she knew it. She didn’t know why she was pushing the subject so hard, other than that he was wanting to drop it so quickly. Her curious nature always got the better of her. Not that she thought she had any right to know everything. She didn’t. Some things were personal, she knew. But she didn’t really know anything about Malfoy, other than who he was in school and the stark contrast of who he’d been the last few days - Unforgivables and luring to flats aside. She wanted to know. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to.

“I Obliviated my parents and sent them off to Australia. I’ve thought about going to find them. Then I think, ‘What if they’re happier now?’ and I just… I like to think they’re happy. Why is your mother in Italy?”

He didn’t answer right away and he didn’t even look up at her when he started speaking this time.

“They were bonded mates. When my father was sent to Azkaban, it was hard. She didn’t take it well. She cried a lot. When he died, it… it broke her. She became catatonic. I had to force feed her. I had to bathe her. I did everything for her. The Manor was a prison. For both of us. She always loved Italy. She’s taken care of. I make the trip once a month.”

“Oh. Well, that sounds awful. I’m sorry.”

“Me too.”

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity. He just read the Prophet while she sipped her tea, lost in thought. He finally set it down and left the room. She didn’t bring up his parents again.

* * *

He entered the room in nothing but a towel. She found herself enchanted by the way the droplets of water dripped down from the tips of his hair to his torso, creating a shimmering path of moisture she found herself longing to trace with her tongue. His hair was wild and disheveled. His lean muscles illuminated by the evening sun, radiating its tangerine glow through the windows of the bedroom before disappearing into the horizon. 

He looked ethereal.

She never thought of him as exceptionally attractive in school. Maybe because she always did her best to ignore him. Or maybe it was her Omega side that made her see him in this new alluring light. She supposed it didn’t matter, because he took her breath away regardless.

“Are you hungry, darling?”

The real side of her hated when he would try to take care of her like this whole thing was her idea in the first place. Like he didn’t lure her here to take advantage of her situation. The Omega side, which seemed to be winning arguments more and more lately, got a little _tingly_ at the thought of her Alpha tending to her every want or need. Her Alpha… _Her_ Alpha?

_He most certainly is not._

“I’m fine,” she snapped.

She _was_ hungry. Starving, actually. But she’d be damned if she was going to let Malfoy have the upper hand more than he already did. Trying to butter her up, do ‘nice’ things for her in the hopes of… Of what? What was his goal? Sex? It didn’t matter anyway, she figured. She’d be gone and out the door the second this ‘heat’ is over. When her every thought didn’t revolve around him; her hate for him, her disgust for him, her undying _need_ for him. 

Yes, once her heat was over and done with, she’d have to do her research. See if there’s anything else out there, aside from the touch of a certain blond Slytherin, to help cure this insatiable hunger before her next cycle. 

“Well aren’t you cheery.”

She shot him a glare that she hoped conveyed every ounce of contempt she felt. He had the nerve to laugh at her.

“Yes, well, I’m famished,” he said before dropping the towel and sliding into a pair of pajama bottoms. She watched every move he made as inch by wicked inch of his beautifully sculpted thighs disappeared into the expensive Supima cotton. 

This _had_ to stop.

“Feel free to join me. Unless of course, your pride tastes better than tikka masala.”

She really _was_ hungry…

* * *

Five days. Five days since her entire world had fallen apart and she was taken here. _Five days._ She hadn’t even _tried_ to leave, which was a rather disconcerting reality when she stopped to think about it. So she tried to not think about it. There will always be time for self-loathing later.

Malfoy was still sleeping. He liked to sleep in, it was his favorite thing. She would often use that time to peruse the numerous titles on his bookshelves and find things to read. He had quite a few muggle books, which surprised her. Lots of potion books, which didn’t surprise her at all. But nothing, absolutely nothing on Alphas and Omegas.

She even read through all of his potion books, trying to find a particular potion that required the use of Unicorn hooves. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

It didn’t stop her from looking though. Surely he didn’t just make up his own recipe to cure his rut symptoms. He’d have to actually _acquire_ a Unicorn hoof to know that it actually worked. Maybe it was just a guess? Or maybe he illegally obtained the ingredient and was only asking permission _because_ it worked.

She just wanted something, _anything,_ to help her learn more about this Omega side of her. She hated not knowing things. She especially hated when everyone else knew something that she didn’t. That’s what this whole experience felt like; everyone else knew everything and she knew next to nothing. It was infuriating. She needed books. She needed to be able to research, to find a way out of this, out of these heats, out of this weird connection she felt toward Malfoy.

She’d never wanted someone this badly, this… desperately. She didn’t know what it was. This fire, this passion, this animalistic need to fuck him into the mattress if he so much as looked at her. With Ron, he was a comfort. Like a warm hug and a sweet kiss. With Malfoy it was needy. It was a hunger that would never die, a thirst that couldn’t be quenched. She didn’t choose this, she didn’t want it. But that didn’t make it go away.

“Maybe if you told me what you were looking for, I could help.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck and began planting soft kisses there, causing her to instinctively lean back into his chest. So natural, like she belonged there.

“Maybe I don’t _want_ your help,” she snapped. She did have to maintain _some_ semblance of dignity after all. She felt him chuckle on her skin and the vibrations of it sent chills throughout her body.

“You’re like an Acid Pop,” he said, smiling into her neck.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sour, offensive, biting. But once you get past all that, there’s sweetness to you. So you deal with all the sour bits because the sweetness is addicting. Makes it worth it. You’re an Acid Pop.”

_"I’m_ sour and offensive?” she scoffed.

“And biting, yes.”

She gave him a scathing look and he just laughed at her. She hated when he did that. Didn’t take her moods seriously. Nevermind that he still had his arms around her with her body willfully leaning into his chest.

He trailed his fingers down her abdomen, unhooking buttons of his shirt she was wearing along the way. His lips were soft as they landed on her temple, her cheek, her jaw, neck, collarbone…

His fingers managed to find themselves tantalizingly close to her knickers.

“But that’s okay, darling. It’s worth it to get to that delicious, sweet center.”

She gripped his arms as his fingers dipped into her knickers. Stupid. So, so, _so_ stupid. She knew. She knew and she didn’t bloody care.

Tightening her grip on his firm muscles, she leaned the side of her face against his chest and let out a breathy whimper as his fingers delicately explored her.

“So wet for me. What do you want, Granger? Tell me what you want.”

She answered by bucking against his fingers, causing them to teasingly brush against her clit, eliciting a deep, breathy moan.

He stopped. She’d never hated him more.

“That’s not going to work, I’m afraid. Tell me.”

“I-I don’t-”

“You’re thinking too much. Just tell me what you want.”

His lips found her neck again. Always so damn soft.

“I want… I want to feel you.”

He began moving his fingers again. Not penetrating, just teasing.

“See? That wasn’t so hard.”

He used his free hand to palm her breast through the fabric hanging loosely off her shoulders. He could’ve touched skin. She wanted him to touch skin. She arched her back and pushed herself into his palms as he thumbed her nipple through the cotton.

“Please…” she whimpered.

“Please what, darling?”

“I want to feel you… please.”

He pulled her shirt off slowly, fingertips brushing against her skin, feather light kisses peppered along her shoulders. She shivered under his touch. She’d never been this sensitive to touch before. She didn’t know if it was the heat, her Omega side in general, or… just him.

Her shirt fell to the floor and she watched it land in a pool around her ankles. Her panties were next. She heard his pajama bottoms fall before he grabbed her waist from behind and pulled her into his lap on the sofa. She could feel his erection resting on the inside of her thigh. So close to where she wanted it. So agonizingly close.

More kisses along her shoulder blades, more barely there touches on her skin. Sedulous, torturous, exquisite touches.

“Do you want me, Granger?” He spoke the words into her shoulder, followed by a path of little nips leading to her neck. A loaded question, she knew. She knew the intent behind it. She knew the danger there, the fear in it. The vulnerability. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Yes.”

He aligned himself with her entrance before pushing into her. She sank down on his length with a gasp. His hands moved to her hips, gripping them, controlling her rhythm. This time, she let him.

Slow. Painfully slow. Lifting her up, sinking back down, his hands locked on her hips. Torture. Bliss. Heaven. Hell.

She arched her back and met his lips in a kiss. Lips and teeth and loud, guttural moans.

There was nothing else but them. Nothing else. Nothing and no one. She could stay like this forever.

Her orgasm ripped through her body. His touch flaming hot against her skin as she clenched around him. She’d never felt so uninhibited, so completely out of control. Blinding, euphoric ecstasy. He was close behind and she could feel him swelling up inside of her. That wondrous feeling of being completely full of him. She’d never get used to it. _So_ stupid.

She laid back into his chest as they caught their breath.

“Mine.” He began planting soft kisses along her neck and throat. Always soft. He conjured a blanket and draped it over their naked bodies.

“You’re mine.”

She didn’t say a word. Just leaned against him in utter exhaustion. Feeling him trace along her skin, stroking her hair. Feeling way too comfortable in the intimate silence while he stayed locked into her.

“My books on Alphas and Omegas are at the Manor. I’ll have a house elf bring them all tomorrow.”

* * *

When Hermione woke up she felt different. She didn’t know how she felt different. It was just… _different._ Something was off. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Malfoy was still asleep, of course. His arm lazily draped across her stomach, his face buried in her curls. She carefully lifted his arm up, trying not to wake him, and slowly slipped out of bed.

She tiptoed out of the bedroom and made her way to the kitchen to make some tea. It even smelled different. Normally, Malfoy’s scent was everywhere. All over. It was still there, but it was… faint.

Odd.

She sipped her tea and grabbed the Prophet from the counter. She was skimming through the articles she didn’t really care about when she realized it.

She wasn’t _in the mood._ She had literally been pretty much in a constant state of arousal for five days straight. That’s why she felt different. She felt _normal._

Her heat is over. That’s got to be it. It’s over.

She can leave.

She abandoned the paper and tea and immediately went back to the bedroom to get dressed. She should wake Malfoy and let him know she’d be going. She should. But she didn’t want him trying to stop her. 

She quickly threw on her jeans, bra, shirt. She was in the process of finding her left shoe when Malfoy started to rouse, hands rubbing his eyes.

“Where are you going?” he asked through a yawn.

“My heat is over. I’m going home.”

She continued looking for her shoe, not really wanting to look him in the eye before she did the five day, sex-binge walk of shame. Gryffindor or not, she only had so much bravery.

“We haven’t even had breakfast yet.”

“No need. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as I find my shoe.”

Just keep looking. It’s around here somewhere. Maybe under the bed? No. Behind the dresser? No.

“Granger.”

She refused to look at him. If she looked at him, he might convince her and she didn’t want to be convinced.

“Do you know where my other shoe is? Looks like… well, it looks like this one but for the left foot.”

Shoe. Where is the damn shoe?

“Merlin, would you bloody look at me?”

She did. He looked… hurt. What did he expect? There was no scenario that ended with her _actually_ staying here. She barely knew him! Before she took that meeting, she hadn’t seen him in three years. And what she knew of him, she hated. Besides, he's the one that took advantage of her. Surely he knew she wasn’t going to stay.

“I have a job, you know. And a life. And friends, who I’m sure are incredibly worried about me. I have to go home.”

“Are you coming back?” he asked quietly.

She had thought about it. Of course, she’d thought about it.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

His face was now devoid of any emotion. He was silent for what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few minutes in actuality.

“Is that right? Why’d you bond us then?”

He was lying. Obviously he was lying. She didn’t _bond_ them. They weren’t bonded. There’s no- There’s no _bond._

“What are you talking about?”

“You bonded us, Granger. What did you think happened when you took a bloody chunk out of my chest that first night? Or did you think wounds normally healed if you _lick_ them?”

She didn’t- There’s no way-

She couldn’t believe it. He tricked her, he had to have tricked her. She wouldn’t have done that willingly. Not in her right mind. He must have known she’d do it. He was trapping her. That was his plan all along and she fell right into it.

“What did you do?”

_"I_ didn’t do anything. I have to admit, I was surprised when you initiated it. I had planned on courting you first, but you just couldn’t wait.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

This couldn’t be happening. Maybe this was still a trick. Maybe he’s making it up. The biting - it was something else.

“Honestly I didn’t know you didn’t realize what you were doing until you told me this was your first heat. I didn’t want to freak you out. But since you’re leaving, now’s as good a time as any.”

“You’re lying. You- you took advantage of me! You marked me without my consent! You lured me here and then took advantage of my situation! I didn’t have a choice! I didn’t have any choices!”

His expressionless face quickly turned spiteful. His lips curled into a sneer, his body tense. His eyes held a cold fury, reminiscent of their school years. She took a few steps back, trying to get as much distance as she could.

“No choices? I didn’t _force_ you to do anything, Granger. I asked you to come here, you agreed under the stipulation I answer your questions. I didn’t even _try_ to have sex with you until you practically _begged_ me to do so. And I’m certainly not the one who initiated the bond. No, _that_ would be you as well. You could have left at any time, but did you? No, no you didn’t. Instead, you fucked me for five days straight. But _surely_ the know-it-all is right. Yes, _I’m_ to blame. The mean old dragon who captured the princess and held her against her will. I only cooked for you, took care of you during your heat, held you, bloody _worshipped_ you. You didn’t even tell me this was your first heat until I asked you, but _sure,_ Granger. _I’m_ the one who took advantage. If you want to leave, fucking leave. But at least be honest with yourself. Who used who?”

He picked up her missing shoe from beside his nightstand and threw it across the room in her direction. She grabbed it from where it landed and wasted no time in apparating away.


	5. The Choice Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!
> 
> So yay! Got this chapter done a lot quicker than I thought I would! Also, it ended up being way longer than I intended so I split the last chapter in two parts. This is part one, obviously and the second part should be done and up in a week or less :)
> 
> Also, I have some ideas for an epilogue, but it isn't necessary to the story. So I wanted to ask you guys if you would be interested in it first. Let me know in the comments and if you guys are game, I'll start working on that when I finish part two of this chapter.
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who has left a kudos, comment, or just read the story! You guys are so awesomeeee.
> 
> Hope you enjoy :)

Once Hermione arrived at her flat, she was in a rage. How dare he? How dare he put any of this on her? She didn’t want any of this! This was his fault! He tricked her! 

Tears fell stubbornly down her cheeks and she wiped them away with her sleeve. She had the sudden urge to floo Ginny. She didn’t want to be alone -  _ couldn’t _ be alone. She needed her best girl friend to hug her and tell her everything was going to be fine. They’d find a way out of this together. Just like always.

After flooing a very worried Ginny, she sat down on her sofa and this time, let the tears fall. She felt alone and scared and angry. She couldn’t believe she let Malfoy do this to her. She couldn’t believe she let him get her so upset. But mostly, she couldn’t believe that she already wanted to go back to him. Whether to slap the piss out of him or kiss him, she wasn’t entirely certain. Probably both.

_ It’s this stupid bond. _

She had to find a way to get rid of this bond. There had to be a way right? Surely she isn’t the first Omega to accidentally bond themselves to someone. Surely there was a way out. There had to be a way out.

She glanced over and noticed it. Shimmering gold beneath the window. Still ugly as sin. She went to pick it up and just sat with it in her hand, rolling it over and inspecting it with her thumb. Boring, plain, ordinary. She felt like it was mocking her. It represented the life she was supposed to have, the life she was supposed to want. And now she couldn’t and didn’t. 

_ Stupid, ugly ring. _

She didn’t hear Ginny come in from the floo, or walk over to the sofa, or feel her sit down. She couldn’t stop looking at the sodding ring. It should have been silver. Maybe if it was silver, it would mean she was supposed to be with Ron and they would be happy. But it was gold. Gold meant he didn’t know her at all. Gold meant that they were doomed long before Hermione realized it.

“I told him not to buy that atrocious looking thing. So ugly, it’s making you cry.”

The edges of Hermione’s mouth curled into a small smile, but the tears still spilled down her cheeks, and Ginny wasted no time capturing her in a warm embrace.

“Shh. It’s okay, Hermione. I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Hermione leaned into the hug and let her tears fall unabashedly against Ginny’s shoulder, while she soothingly stroked her hair.

“I left him. I can’t believe I left him,” she said between sobs, more just to say it out loud than direct it to Ginny.

“You didn’t leave him, Hermione. He left. Not you. Don’t put this on yourself, okay? It’s not your fault.”

Hermione looked up at her friend, confused.

“What?”

“You’re talking about Ron right?”

“Oh. Right. Ron.”

It was now Ginny’s turn to look thoroughly confused.

“Who else would you be talking about?”

She suddenly felt very nervous. How was she supposed to tell Ginny? How was she supposed to tell her that not only was she  _ not _ crying about Ron, who ended things  _ less than a week ago, _ but that she was crying over  _ Malfoy, _ who they all very strongly despised. Hell, Hermione despised him probably more than anyone. How was she supposed to explain these extremely conflicting and downright confusing feelings?

“Right. I’ll get us some tea.”

“You’re going to want something stronger, Gin,” Hermione sniffled, wiping her eyes with her sleeves.

“Fine. I’ll go get us some whisky.”

Ginny came back with two bottles of Firewhisky and handed one to Hermione who immediately twisted off the cap to indulge. She would need to get good and drunk before starting this dreaded conversation.

“So come on, out with it. Who do I have to Avada?”

“So… well… you know the, erm, Alpha… the one that, erm,  _ marked _ me?”

Ginny nodded her head impatiently.

“Well… he was here that night. After you dropped me off, I came inside and he was just… here. He smelled incredible and I wasn’t entirely in my right mind, mind you. And well… he asked me to go with him… to his flat… and I did.”

“So that’s where you’ve bloody been! My goodness, Hermione! We’ve been worried sick about you.  _ Ron’s _ been worried sick about you. And you were with some random bloke?” Hermione’s face dropped. “Sorry, not helpful. Just… what happened?”

This was going to be even harder than she thought.

“Not some random bloke. What I mean is… well… you know him.”

Ginny took a sip of her drink.

“Okay… Who is it then?”

“Before I tell you, you have to promise not to get angry with me.”

“Fine.”

“And you can’t judge me. I know you try not to, but you can judge sometimes. You can’t judge.”

“Fine.”

“And you have to understand that I wasn’t in my right mind at the time and if I was I  _ definitely _ wouldn’t-”

“Merlin, Hermione! Who was it?”

“It was… erm… it was Draco Malfoy.”

Ginny spit out her drink, clearly not expecting  _ that _ answer.

“You spent five days shagging  _ Draco Malfoy _ ?” She cleaned the mess she made and then immediately gulped the rest of her drink down before conjuring another bottle. “Right. Well. Do explain.”

She spent the next few hours explaining to Ginny exactly what happened. The mark, being taken to his flat, the cooking, the  _ shagging  _ \- minus the bit about knotting, and finally - the bond and the argument that followed.

She’d never seen Ginny drink so much.

“I don’t want it, Ginny. I don’t want the feelings. I just want to hate him. I never want to see him again. But I… I miss him. Merlin, it’s only been a few hours and I miss him so bloody much, it hurts. Will you help me? I have to find a way out of this bond. I have to.”

“Of course I’ll help you, Hermione. You don’t even have to ask. I’ll try to find any books that may be helpful. I’ll have Harry look at the Ministry library as well-”

“You can’t tell him. You can’t tell anyone. I want to wait until I know more about what I’m dealing with before-”

“I won’t tell him. I promise. But I’ll see if he can get us some books on the subject. I’ll check if mum has any as well. And Hermione… I know… well, I know it’s going to be hard to be away from your mate, erm sorry, Malfoy while the bond is still in place. So you know, if you need somewhere to stay… if you get lonely… well, you’re more than welcome to come stay with me and Harry. Just say the word, okay?”

“Of course. Thank you, Gin, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Right, well, I’ll leave the floo open. You know, in case you’re not.”

* * *

That night, Hermione couldn’t sleep. The pain in her chest, pounding out through her broken heart, left her feeling lonelier than she should be allowed. This was what she wanted right? She wanted to leave. She wanted to forget all about Malfoy and the things he made her feel. It’s the bond. She knew it was the bond. Somehow that didn’t make her feel any better. It didn’t take any of the pain away.

It was too cold in her bed. Cold in a way that had absolutely nothing to do with temperature. Cold in the way it felt so fucking empty. She’d cried so much today, she thought she had nothing left to give, but tears were still staining her cheeks; trails of moisture leading down to her already soaked pillow.

She could still smell him on her clothes, so she had kept them on when she went to bed. She removed her shirt and buried her face in it.

She didn’t fall asleep until she heard birds chirping outside her window in the early hours of the morning.

* * *

“Whoah, you look like shit.”

Hermione rubbed her eyes as she stepped into her sitting room, Ginny waiting patiently on the sofa, and a pile of books on the table. 

“I barely slept.”

“You look like you got hit by a train.”

She sat down next to Ginny, eyes still a bit blurry from lack of sleep and sensitive to the rays of the morning sun beaming through the window.

“I feel like it too. Are these the books then?” she asked, picking up the first one in the pile.

_ The Animal Within _

Well, that’s one way to put it. Hermione opened the book and began reading, Ginny grabbing the next in the pile to do the same thing.

She learned quite a few things from the book so far. She learned the theory of the whole phenomenon was that centuries ago, Pureblood families bred with lycanthropes to strengthen their bloodlines. Most of the werewolf traits died out over the many years, but this one stuck. Not everyone would inherit it, but enough did. Obviously. She learned that Omegas are traditionally submissive, doing things an Alpha says instinctually, which explained why she would do things she didn’t necessarily want to. She didn’t like that bit at all.

Finally, she got to the section on bonding and mates. This is the part that made Hermione’s heart drop into her stomach. Malfoy was right,  _ she _ was the one who initiated it. She bit down on his scent gland, located on his chest, drew blood, then cleaned it with her saliva. Malfoy accepted the bond, by doing the same to her. Furthermore, she learned that bonds have to be initiated  _ and _ accepted. There was no way to force a bond. You cannot be tricked into bonding. You cannot be tortured into bonding. The bond will only work if both parties agree…  _ with their souls. _

Not only did her bloody soul  _ agree _ to the bond, it initiated it. She couldn’t have been any less forced. Malfoy didn’t trick her. He couldn’t have. For the bond to work, they have to both want it. Even if her mind didn’t, her soul did and that’s what’s important apparently.

The most troubling bit she learned though is there’s virtually no way out of it. Not known at the time of this book’s publication anyway. And if she rejected the bond…

“I’m going to die, Ginny.”

Ginny looked up at her, confused. Hermione’s fear must have been etched on her face because Ginny’s features softened and she gave her a pitying look.

“If I reject the bond… I will die. He’ll probably die too. I’m killing us both. I’ve got to find a way out of this. There… there has to be a way out of this.”

“Let’s take a break. When’s the last time you ate?”

“I don’t want a break. I want to find a way-”

“I’m not taking no for an answer. Eat first. Then we’ll keep reading. And you’re staying with me and Harry tonight and I don’t want to hear any arguments on that either.”

Ginny got up and walked to the kitchen and began looking through her fridge and cabinets.

“Merlin, Hermione. Your kitchen’s depressing. Come on. We’re going to mine. Take the books, we’ll continue there. Get clothes. I said no arguing,” she said, looking at Hermione’s defiant expression.

Hermione sighed and did as she was told. It was useless arguing with Ginny. The witch had something about her. If she ordered you around, you listened. She tried not to think about what she learned whilst gathering her things, but of course she couldn’t help herself. She was going to die if she didn’t find a way out of this bond or cave and go back to Malfoy. 

She was going to die and he was going to die. The book didn’t specify how long she’d have. She already felt weaker than she did the day before. Not being around Malfoy, even for a day, already was taking a toll on her body. She wondered how he was doing. She imagined him ghostly pale, sickly, weak, heart-broken. She tried to ignore the feelings of despair given to her by the image her brain conjured. It’s the bond. The bond. The bond. Have to get rid of this bond.

* * *

Harry didn’t look surprised to see her. In fact, was that a look of pity? Did Ginny tell him? She’d promised not to tell him. She was going over a list of hexes to throw at Ginny when he spoke.

“We’ve all been worried sick about you, you know. Especially… we’ve all been worried. Had no idea where you’d gone. Do you… I mean… you know you can talk to me about anything, Hermione. We’ve always told each other everything.”

He was right. They had. Always. This time though, she didn’t think he’d understand. Not when it came to  _ who _ she had been spending time with. And she definitely didn’t want to run the risk of him telling Ron. If there’s one thing Hermione knew without a shadow of a doubt, it’s that Ron would absolutely  _ not _ understand. She didn’t want to deal with that right now. Ron was the last person she wanted to confront about this - or about anything else she would eventually have to confront. Right now, she needed to focus. To find a way out. For both her and Malfoy. Neither of them deserved to  _ die _ over this whole mess.

“I can’t, Harry. I just… I know you think you’ll understand and that you deserve to know and maybe you would and maybe you do, but I just… I need time, okay? I just need time.”

He nods. He won’t push her. She’s the pushy one. It’s not fair and she knows it. He’s her best friend, her very best friend. They don’t do secrets, never have. She feels guilty and she knows he’s hurt by her omission. She wants to tell him. She wants to get it all off her chest and let him hug her and tell her it’s fine and it doesn’t matter because he’s always going to be there for her. He would be. She could tell him something. Just… something.

“I initiated a bond. I’m… I’m bonded.”

He stays silent for way too long. Long enough for Hermione to think she made a mistake. Harry is her best friend but Ron is his. She can’t forget that.

“To who?”

She shakes her head no. Too soon.

“Do I know them?”

Tears prick her ducts, threatening to fall but she’s able to hold them back.

“Yes.”

He looks contemplative. Like he’s working through every possibility, trying to figure out who it could be that she would refuse to give him a name. It should be obvious. Maybe she said too much. She didn’t want him to figure it out.

“Did they hurt you?”

She shakes her head no.

“He took care of me. I promise.”

“But you don’t want the bond?”

No, she didn’t. Or she did but didn’t want the consequences. Who knows anymore. This bond has turned her brain to mud. She can’t tell the difference between the bond and her true feelings. It’s all… it’s all fuzzy and blurred and muddy and indistinguishable.

“I don’t think I do. I don’t know.”

“You look sick. Maybe you should rest.”

She was happy for the change in conversation, except it wasn’t a change. Not really. Everything led back to the bond. She’s sick because she’s dying. She’s dying because she’s rejecting the bond. She’s rejecting the bond because… because she doesn’t know what else to do.

“Okay.”

* * *

“Charlie’s going back to Romania in a couple days. His rut is over.”

Hermione didn’t look up from the book she had been poring over for the last twenty-four hours. She needed to find something. Anything. Any little hint.

“That’s nice. I’m glad he’s feeling better.”

“I asked him to stop by. I thought maybe you’d have some questions or maybe would find it helpful to get an Alpha’s perspective.”

She looked up that time. Ginny was trying to be careful, like she was a wild animal that could attack at any moment. Maybe she was.

“Is that necessary?” she bit out.

“Maybe not to break the bond, no. But, you know, to get an idea of what this has been like for Malfoy. I know you don’t want to be with him, that much is clear, but I think it would help to know his side of things.”

She didn’t  _ want _ to know his side of things. She didn’t want to make this more difficult than it was already. It was easier to be angry with him, easier to hate him, easier to blame him. She could break the bond without a second’s hesitation if she thought everything was his fault. If it wasn’t… No, she  _ needed _ to break this bond.

“I’ve read plenty on Alphas. I don’t think-”

“Sure, but there’s only so much books can tell you. I think it would help to, you know,  _ hear _ it.”

“I don’t see how-”

“You can’t blame Malfoy forever, you know. Merlin, it sounds funny saying that out loud. It’s true though. He’s probably going through just as much as you right now and I’ll bet he doesn’t have such amazing, wonderful, beautiful company. He’s probably having a rough go of it-”

She could too blame Malfoy forever. That was her plan. Ginny can’t go messing up her plan like that.

“And you care if he’s having a ‘rough go of it’?”

“Not really. But you do. Even if you won’t admit it. He’ll be here later.”

* * *

Charlie came later that night. He looked nervous. She didn’t blame him considering the last time she saw him. She was all nerves herself. Ginny led him to the kitchen table where Hermione had basically been living the last couple of days. His warm, spicy scent was faint, but she could still make it out. She much preferred mint. 

She shoved that thought to the back of her mind.

“So nice to see you again, Charlie.”

He smiled nervously. He didn’t want to be here as much as she didn’t want him to be. There’s that, at least.

“It’s nice to see you too. Are you sure your, erm, mate won’t mind that I’m here?”

She didn’t like anyone referring to Malfoy as her mate, although she supposed it’s better than saying his name. She didn’t want anyone else to know that part either.

“He’ll, erm, he’ll be fine.”

“Well, erm, what is it you’d like to know?”

Hermione fidgeted with her thumbs, rolling them around each other awkwardly. What did she want to know? Anything? Nothing?

“Tell us about marking. Ma- her  _ mate _ marked her without her consent. I think she’s had trouble with that bit,” Ginny asked, breaking the silence.

Charlie looked as uncomfortable as Hermione. At least she’s not alone.

“Consent is tricky when it comes to Alphas and Omegas. We, erm, we react heavily on instinct. It’s more… it’s unspoken. He was probably very drawn to your scent and saw signs that you were drawn to his. It would have been terribly difficult to restrain from marking you, I’d imagine.”

She read about that, the instinctual urges making things difficult to refrain. It didn’t make it any better though. She and every other Omega deserve choices, deserve the right to say yes or no - instincts and souls be damned.

“You restrained. You liked my scent. I obviously liked yours, but you didn’t mark me.”

“Yes, well… you were already marked. Someone already staked their claim on you. If they hadn’t… well, it would have been way more difficult.”

“So you’re saying if Hermione wasn’t marked already, you would have done so?”

“Yes, I would have.”

“Without her consent?”

Charlie’s face paled. Ginny didn’t seem to notice.

“If she showed signs of… of being drawn to my scent. Yes, without her consent.”

Hermione looked down to her fidgeting thumbs, wishing desperately she were anywhere other than here having this conversation. Ginny looked pleased with his answer. She was trying to prove a point with this meeting and Hermione was trying to ignore it.

“What happened when you noticed Hermione was an Omega, when you were ‘drawn’ to her scent? What was going through your mind?”

“Not a lot, to be honest. I just… she smelled sweet. Like… like honeysuckles. It was… I couldn’t think about anything else. But I smelled another Alpha on her, I knew she’d been marked. I became angry. When Ron came in… that’s why I lashed out. I wanted her. He was in my way. I could have… I  _ would have _ killed him. I wanted to track down that other Alpha and kill him too.”

“So you would have done something completely  _ not _ in your character to get to her? Something that you couldn’t control, even if you wanted to. Something like kill your own brother?”

He looked like he was about to get sick all over the table.

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Charlie. I know this was difficult for you to talk about.”

Ginny gave Hermione a look of satisfaction, like she finally proved her point. It didn’t prove anything to her. In fact, it only muddied things even further.

“All this proves, Ginny, is that  _ my mate _ didn’t have a choice either. We both deserved one. We both deserve to be free of this bond.”

“Well, at least now you know.”

* * *

“Come on, Hermione. You need to eat something.”

She couldn’t. Eating made her feel worse somehow. Like her body no longer knew how to process necessary things like food. The second she swallowed, she wanted to throw it back up immediately and her throat was already raw from dry heaving.

“I’m not hungry.”

Lie. She was starving. She wondered if maybe it was her stubborn Omega side that was causing all the trouble and would only let her eat food that Malfoy cooked for her because all she could think about was stew, and omelettes, and tikka masala.

“I’m going to try to read some more of those books. Maybe I can find something. I have to find something.”

Ginny’s face was stern but Hermione’s face was defiant. They stared each other down for a couple of minutes before Ginny finally relented.

“Fine. But you’re still going to eat something. We’ll research for an hour and then I’ll make you some soup. You’re wasting away and I’m not going to let you starve yourself to death.”

“I’m already dying, Gin.”

“Stop saying that! You’re not going to die. We’ll figure something out. You’re not dying. You’re not.”

“Okay.”

Hermione opened the potions book that was at the bottom of the stack. Most of it was normal potions stuff. Pain relievers for ruts and heats, cures for different diseases that are common in Alphas and Omegas. Hermione looked carefully over each one. If there’s going to be a cure, it would probably be in here. It was a huge book, she was only about a quarter of the way through, and it didn’t even have an index. A lot of these potions required ingredients that were either illegal or extremely hard to obtain, which was a little disheartening, but she wasn’t going to give up that easily. There was something here, she knew it. There had to be.

After an hour, they paused for lunch. She took a couple bites of the soup before she began to feel sick to her stomach. She moved the bowl away, much to Ginny’s dismay, then went back to the book.

“Hermione, you only took a couple of bites.”

“I’m close, Ginny. I know it. I’m close to something.”

She spent hours reading about potions that had absolutely nothing to do with her situation. Hours and hours and hours. Ginny, to her credit, stayed with her the entire time, though she mostly spent it nagging her about food and rest. But she stayed.

She was close to the end now and Hermione’s nerves were rising with each passing page. Still nothing. She had exactly four pages left. This was the last book. She didn’t have anything else. This was it.

On the second to last page, that’s when she saw it.

Requiring mostly normal ingredients…

Aside from one Unicorn hoof.

But it was the note that had Hermione’s heart beating rapidly out of her chest.

  
Written in a beautiful, but hurried scrawl were the words,  _ “I’m sorry.” _


	6. The Choice Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies!!!
> 
> Finally done with this chapter and it will be the last one of the story. I will be writing an epilogue though and I'm hoping to have that up by Christmas Eve or Christmas day, so we'll see how that goes! Lol.
> 
> I want to say thank you to everyone who has left a kudos, commented, or just read the story in general. I SUPER DUPER APPRECIATE YOU ALL!!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy! :)

_ I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. _

The words repeated themselves over and over in her head; a continuous loop surely designed to drive her to the brink of insanity, to torture her with her own emotions and muddied brain. She just stared at the page. Stared at it until it became real… or not real. Because she’s the very last person who knows what she wants.

“Where did you get these books?”

“I… well, I thought they were  _ yours _ -”

“Why would they be mine?!” she snapped. Ginny didn’t even look fazed.

“What did you find?”

She peeked over Hermione’s shoulder to see what she was staring at.

“He’s sorry.”

“I’ve gathered that, thank you,” she said sardonically.

“Hermione, that’s a potion to break the bond! He gave you an out!”

He gave her an out. An out. She has an out. An out that  _ he _ gave her.

She slammed the book shut because she needed to focus on one thing at a time and his note was so bloody distracting, she couldn’t move her eyes any further down the page.

He’s sorry and he’s giving her a way out of the bond. She… She can get rid of the bond. 

She should be elated. She should be thrilled to bloody bits. This is what she wanted. So why did she feel so…  _ awful? _

“Aren’t you happy?”

“Yes, but I…” she trailed off.

She didn’t know  _ what _ she wanted anymore, this was all so confusing. She knew logically, and more so since talking to Charlie, that this wasn’t exactly Malfoy’s fault. They’d both gone with their instincts and ended up in this absolute mess of a situation. Does that mean they had to be stuck with it though? She should be able to choose her mate and Malfoy should be able to choose his. It’s only fair, only right. He definitely wouldn’t choose  _ her _ if his instincts didn’t force him to...

...Right?

“Yes, this is what I want.”

* * *

She spent the evening studying the potion with Ginny. There were a lot of risks, which is to be expected in such an obscure potion. Apparently she would have to take it once a month until the bond finally broke, and also she was just supposed to  _ know _ when it happened, whatever the hell that meant. The book said it can take anywhere from a few months to a few decades, which in and of itself was enough to make Hermione nervous, but the book said it would also be excruciatingly painful and could possibly be lethal. Great. Just great. 

Nothing in this whole situation could just be easy for once, could it? At least she had  _ something. _ She was one step closer to breaking this bond and she  _ would _ break it. For herself  _ and _ for Malfoy.

Ginny was firmly against it. She promised her support no matter Hermione’s decision, but made it very clear she thought this potion was a bad idea. Soul magic. Soul magic was tricky, she’d said. Dangerous. Hermione figured, if she was going to die either way, what’s the harm in trying it?

The potion was created for Alphas and Omegas who have lost their mate and need the bond broken in order to not be driven insane from the loss. No one had tried to use it to  _ reject _ a bond before. She assumed it was probably because knowledge on this particular potion was very limited, possibly only seen by the Malfoys themselves. Because of that though, it meant she didn’t know what would happen to Malfoy if she took the potion. Would the bond break for him as well? Would he still suffer? Something worse? Maybe she could make him the potion too and if they both took it, it would work? She had absolutely no idea.

She would have to acquire a Unicorn hoof, or  _ hooves _ if she needed to make more than one potion, which was just one more dreaded thing to add to the list. She’d have to find a way to get one in a way that sated her moral objections. If there was such a way. She tried not to think about that for now.

Malfoy’s meeting made more sense to her now, at least. He wanted to make this potion for his mother. She could only imagine what losing a mate felt like when just merely being away from hers is making her sick, weak, and not able to eat anything. Not to mention how much she missed him. She was dying to smell him. His scent had faded from the shirt she had been sleeping with and she longed for it. She had been dreaming of him every single night, which made trying not to miss him a whole lot harder. She would dream of going to him, kissing him, shagging him within an inch of his life. She often caught herself wondering what he was doing, wondering if he was thinking of  _ her. _ Sometimes she’d cry at how empty she felt. Hollow. Alone. 

It hurt. It physically and mentally hurt being away from him for so long. Her Omega side was absolutely losing it without her Alpha. She had to get rid of this bond and quickly. She didn’t know how much longer she could last without losing her fucking mind. Or dying. Whichever came first, really. She couldn’t imagine how this was for Narcissa. She didn’t  _ want _ to imagine.

* * *

“Is your father still close with that Magizoologist we met last year? Ruben, I think his name was?”

Ginny looked down from the Daily Prophet and gave Hermione a disappointed glare.

“Yes… You’re not still thinking of taking that potion are you?”

Yes and no. She didn’t want to be in this bond. She wasn’t exactly ready for that kind of commitment. But the more she thought about the potion, the more it seemed like a bad idea and the more going back to Malfoy seemed like a good idea.

She didn’t know if she was going mental because of the bond or if she really was having second thoughts.

“As a matter of fact, I am. But in this particular instance I’m not exactly asking for myself. Malfoy’s mother is an Omega who lost her mate and… well, from what he says, she’s not doing so well. I thought… I don’t know. I thought I could at least try to help her while I sort this out for myself.”

Ginny glanced at her suspiciously trying to determine whether or not Hermione was being sincere in her request, but must have decided she was because she relented.

“Right. I’ll floo him tonight. Just the one?”

“Just the one. And make sure it’s… well, it’s… I don’t want to hurt an innocent Unicorn. If there’s a way...”

“I’ll see what I can find out.”

“Thanks, Gin.”

* * *

She saw Harry in the kitchen with a cup of tea waiting for her. It was late and Ginny had already gone to bed. She sat down at the table next to him and took a sip of her tea as they sat in silence for what felt like hours.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dying?”

Well, so much for Ginny keeping  _ that  _ secret.

“I didn’t want to worry you.”

“You always hated it when I didn’t tell you things to protect you.”

“And yet, you still did it,” she bit out.

She really needed to stop chewing out her friends. She knew he had every right to be upset, she shouldn’t try to keep things from him. He didn’t deserve that. He deserved to know what’s happening to her, why she’s falling apart like this.

“I’m sorry.”

“You can talk to me, Hermione. It’ll stay between us, I promise.”

“Rejecting the bond is… well, it’s killing me. That’s why I’ve been sick,” she said grimly. “There’s a potion. A potion that will break it… but it’s painful. I’d have to take it every month, and… and there’s a chance that  _ it _ could kill me too.”

“And the Alpha you were with… you’re, erm, mate... there’s not a chance for you two to… I don’t know, work things out?”

She’d thought about that a lot since she read his note earlier that day, but it always led to more questions. Did he even still want her? What would everyone think? Is it worth losing Ron? She felt quite certain that she and Ron would probably never work things out at this point, too much had happened. She didn’t want to lose his friendship though and finding out she had been intimate with  _ Draco Malfoy _ pretty much immediately after they had ended things would certainly ruin any chance at a remaining friendship. 

She missed him though. Dearly. She knew it was the bond. She knew it wasn’t real. Any draw they had toward each other, any chemistry - it was because of what they were, not because it was genuine. Was that fair to either of them? Would Malfoy even want her? Did he ever to begin with? Did he  _ want _ her to get rid of the bond? 

He probably did now since she basically accused him of tricking her and taking advantage of her situation. That’s probably why he sent her the potion in the first place. Why would he want her? She was awful to him when he was just trying to take care of her.

They both deserve a way out of this. They deserve a life with someone they both want, not someone forced on them by instincts… or bonds… or souls.

“I… I don’t know, Harry. At times I think I want to. I miss him. I feel things for him that I can’t explain… I-I’ve never felt like this before. It’s chaos and passion and… hunger. But… it doesn’t feel _real._ We didn’t… we didn’t _choose_ each other - not really. It was just… he smelled nice. No, not nice… _incredible._ _That’s it._ It’s my Omega side. Not me. And I bloody bonded us, Harry. _Bonded._ I’ve been blaming him this whole entire time and it was my fault all along! I… I accused him of awful things and I just… I don’t know how to fix this. I just want things to go back to normal.”

Harry gave her a sympathetic smile as she fidgeted her thumbs. He was trying to be there for her, support her. He was trying to be a good friend. She should tell him. She’s going to tell him.

And hope he doesn’t tell Ron.

“It’s Malfoy,” she said quickly. Harry didn’t look at all surprised.

“I know.”

Harry might not be surprised but Hermione was dumbfounded.

“What? How do you know?”

“It wasn’t that hard to figure out, really. You said it was someone I know, but refused to tell me who, like you were scared for me to find out who it was. Well, that and Ginny told me.”

“Ginny told you! She swore she wouldn-”

She was going to hex her later. Bat bogey, Horn tongue, the Tickling hex - she’d use all of them!

“Don’t be mad at her. I pressed. Regardless, I’m not… well, I’m not judging you. It’s biological, really. And… well, you said he took care of you. I know Malfoy’s kept his head low the last few years and well, I know he’s probably still no saint, but I… I don’t think he’s the same person. In fact, I think you should talk to him.”

_ “You _ think I should talk to Malfoy?”

“Yes. I think this potion is a bad idea, I think I don’t want you to die, and I think there’s no harm in letting him explain his side of things. Maybe it would make things a bit more clear. Find out what both of you want.”

“I don’t know, Harry.”

“You know how I realized I liked Ginny?”

“How?”

“I thought she had nice skin. It was that simple, you know. She had nice skin and I liked it. I’m just saying… liking the way someone smells isn’t  _ that _ weird of a way to find out you’re attracted to them, Omega or not.”

Hermione blushed and he took a sip of his tea.

“Just… you know, maybe start slow. No one’s saying you have to  _ marry _ the sod, just… try it out. If it’s not for you, well… there’s an incredibly painful and possibly deadly potion you can fall back on, but don’t let that be your Plan A.”

He had a point. A point she was actually very surprised she hadn’t thought of. How did she not think of that? Giving it a try. If he even still wanted to. She suddenly  _ really _ hoped he still wanted to.

He was giving her a choice right? All she had ever asked for was a choice. Maybe it was time for her to make a decision.

“I’ll think on it, Harry. Thank you.”

“Anytime.”

* * *

The nights were always the hardest. That’s when it would sink in how incredibly alone she was. Then she’d remember  _ she’s  _ the reason she’s so alone. She was scared and she took it out on Malfoy and now all she wanted to do was cuddle up in his warmth and breathe him in.

This bond, this complete and utter mess that she unwittingly created, it would literally and figuratively be the death of her. She would drown in this bitter, endless loneliness; this hollow existence of her own creation. Because she’s stubborn. Because it wasn’t how  _ she _ thought it should be. It didn’t match  _ her _ idea of how two people fall in love.

She wasn’t in love with him - not yet, anyway. But she could be. She could probably very easily fall in love with him, spend the rest of her life happily by his side; comfortably wrapped up in his warmth, his scent, the bubble of security and safeness his arms provided. Maybe that’s what was so terrifying.

She could break this bond. She  _ should _ break this bond.

But then she wouldn’t feel  _ this,  _ and that seemed pretty damn scary too.

* * *

It was Christmas at the Burrow and being here this time of year always made Hermione feel like she was right at home. She didn’t get to spend holidays with her family anymore, and just being here with the Weasleys always did a wonderful job of suppressing her miserable thoughts that seemed to linger this time of year.

The smell of roast permeated the air, making Hermione’s mouth water. She really hoped she’d be able to eat it. More than anything else, she just wanted to eat something.

She walked into the kitchen and saw Molly rushing around trying to prepare everything. George was playing cards with Ron at the kitchen table and Harry went to join them.

“Oh, Hermione! You’re here!” Arthur welcomed gleefully. “I have that Unicorn hoof you were asking about. No worries about anything dodgy. Ol’ Ruben had a mare that recently passed, poor thing. He said he thought Unicorn hooves were illegal to acquire but when I told him it was for  _ the _ Hermione Granger, he had no problem getting one for you!”

Hermione’s face turned beet red. She forgot she probably should’ve _ approved _ Malfoy’s request first. Although, maybe it was better to keep it illegal. She didn’t want anyone taking advantage of such a law. Now she just hoped her boss wouldn’t find out...

Arthur handed her a small wooden box that she assumed had the hoof inside and placed it in her bag. 

She caught Ron’s eyes and blushed with nerves. She wasn’t exactly sure what to say to him. Should she tell him?

“Why do you need a Unicorn hoof, Hermione?” 

She jumped at the sound of his voice.

“Oh, no reason. Just… a friend needs one… for things.”

“Right… Can we talk soon? That is… I mean… if you don’t mind.”

“Sure, Ron. Really soon, I promise,” she nervously replied.

How would a conversation with Ron go? It seemed like centuries ago since she and Ron were engaged to be married, even though it’s only been a week and a half. Did he still have feelings for her? Probably, since it hasn’t been that long. He wasn’t trying to get back with her, was he? Surely not, since  _ he’s  _ the one who ended things due to her being an Omega.

Ginny grabbed her elbow and led her back into the sitting room. She was thankful for the interruption.

“So…” Ginny started. “It’s Christmas.”

“You don’t say,” Hermione sarcastically retorted.

“Shut up. I mean… it’s Christmas. Are you going to go talk to him?”

She wanted to. Every single day away from Malfoy was worse than the last. Not just physically, even though it had definitely taken its toll in that aspect as well, making her look like death itself; but mostly it had taken its toll emotionally. She hadn’t smelled him in days. All she wanted was to just get a little whiff of his scent. Just the tiniest one would do the trick. She wanted to feel his warmth and his soft lips and tongue and just the lack of shagging him in and of itself had her more than ready to go desperately crawling back to him. 

She just kept losing her nerve. Did he still want her? Did he ever? Or was it just his Alpha side that wanted her Omega side?

“You know… I’ll bet Malfoy is dying to see you.”

“Yeah. Literally. How do I know he wants  _ me _ and it’s not just this stupid bond?”

“Hermione, he’s your mate. Give him a chance. I’ll bet Malfoy’s missing you just-”

The sound of glass breaking interrupted them and Hermione turned around to see two broken teacups on the floor and a very red-faced Ron.

“You’re… Malfoy’s your mate?”

“Ron! It’s… It’s hard to explain. I-”

Ron turned and stormed out the front door, Hermione rushing to follow.

The wind was achingly cold, biting her cheeks and nose, turning them red. She’s lucky she hadn’t managed to take her coat off yet or she’d probably die out here, the skin and bones she was now.

She saw Ron up ahead. He’d managed to make it pretty far in the span of a few seconds and she continued to chase after him.

“Ron, wait! I can explain!”

She made it as far as the garden before her lungs began to give out and it became hard to breathe.

“Ron, please!” she coughed. “I’m-I can’t run anymore.”

He finally stopped and turned around before walking back toward her.

“I’m sorry,” she choked out, hands on her knees, still trying to catch her breath.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” he grumbled.

He conjured them both a chair and Hermione got a sense of deja vu. Everything was eerily similar to the night he broke off their engagement. The harsh wind, the awkward silence…

“I’m sorry,” she started warily. “I should have told you… I just… well, everything just happened so quickly and I didn’t know what to do and I just… I’m so sorry, Ron.”

She looked down at her hands to avoid looking at him. She didn’t want to see how hurt he was. How hurt he was because of  _ her. _ Sure, he’s the one who ended things, but he probably didn’t know what else to do at the time either.

“How did it happen?” he asked, his voice clipped.

“He’s, erm… he’s the Alpha who marked me. The one Charlie smelled.”

Still staring at her hands, she rubbed them together to warm them up.

“You let Malfoy mark you when we were engaged? Merlin, Hermione! I thought… I just… Nevermind what I thought. Obviously I was wrong.”

“I didn’t even know what I was yet, Ron! I didn’t know what was happening… it was all… it was all just instinct. Biology remember?”

He let out a small, hollow laugh and she could see his breath in the air.

“Yeah. Biology.”

“I’m sorry. I’m truly sorry, but… well, you had broken things off with me… and I was vulnerable… and well… yes, biology. Next thing you know I’m at Malfoy’s flat and I’ve accidentally bonded us and I’ve been trying to find a way out of it and…” she paused. Ron wouldn’t look at her either, but it was time to be honest, with him and herself. “And I think… well, I don’t think I want a way out of it anymore.”

If she thought the earlier silence was awkward… it didn’t even begin to compare to this one. She fidgeted with her thumbs waiting for him to say something,  _ anything, _ any sort of insight into what he’s thinking. Where do they stand? Does he hate her? He probably hates her.

“You weren’t happy.”

“What?”

“With me, I mean. You weren’t happy.”

“Of course I was ha-”

“No you weren’t. Not really. I mean… you didn’t even  _ want _ to get married. I could tell. I just…  _ I wanted to _ and I thought… well, I thought that you’d come around. You would have done it too. Without a second thought, you would have married me even though you didn’t want to, just to make  _ me _ happy. That’s the kind of person you are, Hermione. You do things to make the people you love happy, even if it ends up hurting you in the long run. I know you love me. Just… it never was the way it should be, was it? It was… easy, comfortable, expected. But it wasn’t how it should be.”

She didn’t know what to say. She grabbed his hand and held it in hers. They sat like that for a minute. Still and quiet, wanting to say so many things but nothing felt quite right.

She watched the wind blow his hair out of his eyes as she studied his profile. She was going to miss Ron. He was a comfort, a constant. She hoped he could still be that for her, that their friendship wasn’t completely ruined.

“For the record, I still hate the slimy git and if I’m ever forced to be around him, you can’t make me be nice to him. And if he does  _ anything _ to hurt one hair on your bushy little head, I swear, Hermione. I swear I will gut him.” He gave her a sad, lopsided smile. “Just… just be happy okay? That’s all I want. You deserve to be happy.”

* * *

Ron was right.

Love is a funny thing. You think it’s supposed to look like one thing, until you realize that that one thing wasn’t actually love at all - or not the right kind of love, anyway. And there are so many different kinds of love that sometimes it’s hard to know the difference. You can spend years with someone you think you love, something that seems so much like  _ true love _ and it turns out, it’s not the right kind. In her case, she spends a few days with her enemy, someone she was supposed to hate, and it turns out, he’s made her feel more than anyone ever had.

* * *

She had been standing outside his door for what felt like hours trying to muster up all her Gryffindor courage and  _ just knock. _

What if he’s not home? What if he knows it’s her and refuses to answer? What if he  _ does _ answer and slams the door in her face?

_ Just knock, Hermione. _

She did. She knocked three times and was getting ready for a fourth before the door opened.

There he was.

Gaunt, paler than usual, haggard.

His scent wafted in the air and she took a deep breath. 

Mint. Her favorite.

“What are you doing here, Granger?” His voice was gruff, ragged. 

“I… well… I stopped by to give you this… and to... you know, apologize for how I acted. I was wrong and I’m sorry.”

She reached into her pocket and took out a small wooden box.

“What is it?” he asked, his voice skeptical.

“Open it.”

He opened the lid and scowled at what was inside.

“Such a thoughtful gift, Granger,” he scoffed. “I’ll have your potion ready in three days.”

He started to shut the door, but Hermione grabbed his elbow. Even through his shirt, the touch was electrifying.

“Three days, that’s great,” she awkwardly started. “You’ll let me know how it goes, won’t you? And send your mother my best.”

“My mother? So you already took yours then?”

“I’m not taking the potion, Draco.”

His scowl deepened.

“So you’re just going to kill us both? Well, that’s lovely. Merry Christmas to you too, Granger.”

“No… I… I’m not taking it because I’m… well… I choose you.”

He looked shocked and confused, as if she’d just Stupefied him out of nowhere.

“What?”

“I choose you… and I’m… well, I’m  _ hoping _ that you’ll choose me too.”

“You choose me?”

“Yes, I-”

She barely had time to register what was happening before she felt his lips on hers. Soft and desperate. Pleading.

She grabbed the front of his shirt to pull him closer as he fisted her hair, and she moaned into his mouth. He tasted exactly like she remembered and she wondered why she ever willingly went without this for four whole days. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. 

The hand not currently twisted in her hair snaked around her waist and she wanted to melt into his chest. 

She leaned into him, her arms around his neck. He moved his mouth to her sweet spot, planting soft kisses over her neck and collarbone on his way there. He suckled at her scent gland, mumbling things like ‘never again’ and ‘mine’ against her skin. She missed this. She really, really  _ missed _ this.

She was his. He was hers.

Her Alpha, her mate, the man her bloody  _ soul _ chose.

“Merry Christmas, Draco.”


	7. The Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, sooo. Pretty short and sweet. I wanted it to be a little longer, but alas, the holidays have me absolutely swamped. This does wrap up the story and I just want to say thank you so much to every single one of you. You guys have been so supportive and wonderful and I love you all!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy and Happy Holidays! :)

ONE YEAR LATER

“Good morning, darling,” he said, while placing soft, chaste kisses along her shoulder blades, up to the back of her neck. She groggily pushed herself against his chest while his hands roved up her stomach and landed on her breast, his face now buried in her hair.

“Morning,” she grumbled, still half asleep.

She needed to wake up. She and Draco were looking at houses today. A house. To buy  _ together. _ It was a big step in their relationship and Hermione was nervous but also supremely excited to have a home that was  _ theirs. _

He turned her on her back and settled himself between her legs, using his lips and tongue against her skin until his mouth found her nipple. She arched herself into him as he nipped at her peaks before moving along her torso. She was certainly awake now.

He traced along her skin with the tip of his tongue while she gripped his hair and his face settled between her legs, peppering kisses on the inside of her thighs. 

She had never had so much sex in her life before Draco. They just couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Always kissing, always touching,  _ needing _ to feel each other constantly.

“Open up for me, darling. Let me see you.”

She spread open for him as wide as she could and the look on his face turned feral. She could feel his fingers on her now aching heat, slowly circling around her clit, and she had to take a deep breath.

“Always so fucking wet for me. My pretty Omega.”

She pushed herself against him. His fingers were working wonders, delicately stroking around her nub, agonizingly building her up, yet not  _ right where she really needs it. _ She whimpered in frustration and he flashed her a satisfied smirk, clearly amused.

“Please, Draco. Please…”

“Please what, darling?”

He moved his fingers away from her clit and began rubbing along her folds, teasingly close to just slipping one in.

“Too… empty…” she managed to get out between shaky breaths. She could feel her heart beating rapidly, pounding against her chest. Her eyes closed, legs spread wide, she could feel him smiling against her thigh as he nibbled at her skin. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. Like the sheer intensity of the moment knocked the fucking wind out of her.

He watched himself as he slipped one finger inside of her, before swiping her clit with his tongue. He added another, picking up the pace and she began to buck up against his hand, so fucking close to where she wanted to be.

It wasn’t enough. She needed more, needed  _ him.  _

“Please… please, I need…”

He lifted his head up and grinned salaciously at her while he drove into her with his fingers. So close.  _ So damn close. _

“I don’t know what you want unless you tell me, love.”

Prat. Evil, sadistic, downright  _ rude _ prat.

“You… please… I need...”

He chuckled knowingly, his stupid grin even wider now. Hermione closed her eyes as she felt him shuffling around. She could feel his length at her entrance and she wiggled her hips in an effort to suggest he  _ get a fucking move on. _

“Is this what you want?” he asked, rubbing the head along her slit. “You know the rules. You have to say it.”

His cock grazed her clit, sending chills up her spine and she couldn’t even think properly, let alone form a bloody sentence.

“I want… please… I want you… inside me.”

“Anything for you, darling.”

She let out a loud groan as he entered her, sheathing himself to the hilt. She loved taking all of him in, being so completely full of him. She met him thrust for thrust, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, pulling him on top of her. His piercing, grey eyes locked on to hers as he fucked her, his ardent gaze held a burning intensity she felt right down to her core. Her mate. Hers. Always hers.

His lips met hers; hungry, desperate, claiming. She grabbed at his neck and hair, trying desperately to be as close to him as possible,  _ needing _ to be as close as possible.

She was so close, so fucking close to falling right off the edge of everything and she wanted to take him with her. He quickened his pace, grabbing onto her hips as he slammed into her. Each thrust bringing her that much closer to…

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. She closed her eyes tight as the entire world shattered around her. Around them. He wasn’t far behind, she could feel him breathing heavily on her neck, the puffs of air warm on her skin as he fell apart and filled her with his seed.

They were both panting and sweating and incoherent. Forehead to forehead, she could taste his breath. Her perfect, sexy mate.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, moving off her and reaching into a drawer of the nightstand.

“Right now?”

“Yes, right now seems perfect.”

When he rolled back over to her, he held up what looked to be a tiny, black box and her breath caught in her throat.

“Is that…?”

“Open it,” he said with a grin.

She opened the small box and gasped at what was inside. Beautiful sterling silver with a very large, radiant cut diamond and an elegant pave setting. It was the most beautiful ring she’d ever seen. 

“Is that a yes then?”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember you asking me a question,” she said, eyes not leaving the gorgeous ring. He let out a quiet chuckle.

“Hermione Granger. My bossy, swotty, sometimes a tad too naggy, but always beautiful, intelligent, love of my fucking life. Will you do me the incredible honor of becoming my wife?”

“Yes! Merlin, yes!”

She practically jumped him, attacking him with a million kisses, before sliding her perfect ring on her finger.

Forever. Hers forever.


End file.
